


Cold Coffee

by toolatefordancing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Some angst, bookshop au, coffee shop AU, wow two in one what a deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toolatefordancing/pseuds/toolatefordancing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a bit sad, owns a bookshop, and loves Louis XIV. Harry works in the new coffee shop down the street and chews gum like a baby cow. Zayn and Niall are in love. Liam likes leather gloves. They're all a bit strange, but that's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so so so so much to Arielle for beta-ing this and just generally listening to my nonsense on a daily basis. You're the best. 
> 
> Everything is a bit cliche but they're all a bit quirky so it's whatever.  
> The title and the beginning ideas for this fic stemmed from [Coffee by Sylvan Esso](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUrQ0qka1JY)  
> I linked some songs throughout that go with the soundtrack in my head so you can click those and listen along to get the Experience.  
> :)))))))))) (:

Heavy grey clouds hang low in the sky, making the air feel thick as it filters through his lungs. The sparse trees are barren, their limbs jutting out like broken bones against the monotonous background. A cold wind nips at Louis’ face as he walks along the sidewalk. It’s colder today than he was expecting. His light sweater not doing much to shield him from the chill. He thinks his toes are beginning to go numb, and makes a mental note to invest in some socks.

He bought some last winter but they all seem to have miraculously disappeared. Honestly, what’s the point in spending the money for socks if you wear them once or twice and never see them again? It’s stupid. You know what, socks are ridiculous. Maybe he won’t buy them this year. Winter is only, what, three months? Four months, tops? He can make it through three months with cold toes, no problem.

The store comes into view. Its brick walls are dingy with age, and the paint on the faded green door is chipped. The sign on the front is still crooked from when they first hung it up.

Niall was dead-set on doing it himself, refusing to pay someone for it. It took him three hours as Zayn and Louis sat on the sidewalk out front, watching. Niall finally got it properly hung up and began shouting about being a “master of all trades” and the “manliest man you fuckers have ever had the pleasure of meeting”. They tried to tell him it was crooked, but he just hopped off the ladder, shouting “Fuck that shit. I’m done and it’s perfect!” They never mentioned the crookedness of the sign again and never tried to fix it 

Louis is glad, though. It gives the shop character, a way to stand out from their neighboring stores. It shows that it’s _theirs_ . 

When he walks through the door, a warm blast of air greets him, making the coldness stitched into his skin seem even more prominent as it begins to thaw. Louis breathes in the air. It smells how it always does, like dust, old books, and the lavender air fresheners Zayn has plugged into the walls. 

He can hear [ music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFP10hDKH7k) playing, accompanied by the soft creak of the wooden floor, as he makes his way to the back of the shop. Zayn is sitting behind the till reading a book that Louis knows he took off of the shelves this morning. The sleeves of the other boy’s black, knit sweater are bunched around his elbows, his recently-dyed, silver hair is styled quiff. His worn, leather jacket is draped hastily across the back of his wooden chair.

“I am here to officially relieve you of your duty!” Louis says loudly, making the brown-eyed boy jump. 

“Shit, Lou! You can’t just sneak up on me like that,” Zayn breathes out, rubbing a hand over his face.

Louis doesn’t mention the fact that sneaking around in the shop is practically impossible considering the way the door snicks shut, and the way the floorboards groan when any weight is put on them. 

He watches the other boy close his book without bothering to mark his place. Zayn will probably just pick up a different book next time he works, anyways. Louis wonders if he’s ever read the ending of a book before, as he always stops in the middle, seeming to never be bothered by the unknown ending.

Zayn scoots the chair back; the legs screech against the floor. He stands up, stretching, and Louis can hear his back pop from where he stands. 

“How was opening today?”

“Was alright. An old lady was waiting by the door when I unlocked the place. She was freaking out about finding a book for her granddaughter’s birthday or something, which was annoying. Other than that it was the usual,” Zayn replies as he puts his jacket on and unplugs his phone from the speakers, the music ending abruptly. 

“Cool,” Louis says, watching as Zayn steps around the counter. 

“Did you see that a new coffee place opened where Em’s bakery used to be?” He asks, giving Louis a pat on the back as he passes him. Louis takes the other boy’s vacated spot and sits down, watching him place the book back onto the shelf in its rightful place. 

“Hm? No. Didn’t notice. Was a bit distracted.” Louis takes the book he’s currently reading out, setting it on the desk. “I don’t think I’m going to buy any socks this year. They always seem disappear, so what’s the point.” He plugs his phone into the speakers, turning his work playlist on shuffle.

Zayn shakes his head. “Right... Well, I’m off. We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Zayn asks, walking slowly backwards, even though he knows the answer. 

“Of course. Tell Nialler I said hello.”

“Will do.” He gives a little, two-finger salute and turns around, walking out of the door. 

Louis shifts in the wobbly, old chair. They found it at a thrift store for only four pounds. It was meant to be temporary, but almost two years have passed and everyone is still waiting for the day the poor thing gives out. It’s not that they can’t afford a new chair, they’re all just lazy and don’t want to go furniture shopping. 

He leans back slightly, closing his eyes, and lets the quiet hum of music and scent of lavender fill his senses. It’s likely to be another slow day.

He takes the long way home that night, going out of his way to his favorite pizza place. As he makes his way down the street to his flat, the warm pizza box in his hands is the only thing keeping him from shivering. His cold legs and cold feet move slowly; the exhaustion hangs off his bones, weighing him down. 

***

Louis blearily blinks awake. He looks over at his alarm clock, sitting between a picture of his mum and the girls and a framed copy of Louis’ favorite picture of [ Louis XIV](http://media.web.britannica.com/eb-media/96/115496-004-891C086B.jpg) that Niall gave him for his seventeenth birthday. 5:45 AM, fifteen minutes before his alarm is supposed to go off. Great. He debates going back to sleep for fifteen minutes, but ultimately decides against it because he’d just wake up feeling even more tired than he does now. 

He sighs, turning off his alarm so it doesn’t start blaring in a few minutes, and wiggles further into his cocoon of blankets. The white noise [of](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDwTr4OMC44) his mind seems loud today.

The thought of finding someone new to warm the other side of the bed briefly crosses his mind, but he dismisses the thought. It’s so much work to find someone he can put up with for a few months. It’s always a hassle to find someone who won’t care too much about him so that the break up will be almost nonexistent, allowing them to just slip apart, no longer needing the other. Those kind of people are hard to find.

A sliver of sunlight filters into the room from the space between his curtains and the windowsill. The curtains aren’t quite long enough to cover the entirety of the window, the thick, floral-patterned material hangs about an inch too short. 

His nan gave them to him when he graduated from uni and moved into his own flat. At first the length annoyed him, the soft rays of light keeping his bedroom illuminated throughout the day. He only kept them because he didn’t want be rude. There was also the fact that after he spent all of his savings on the down payment for their bookstore, he didn’t really have the option of buying more. He could buy some new ones now, but with time, he’s grown to find them quite endearing. 

Louis lays there for a few minutes before he finally rolls out of bed, already missing the warmth of his comforter as his feet touch the floor. He groans as he stretches, scratching lightly at his belly.

He saunters into the bathroom, going about his usual morning routine. He somewhat styles his hair, mostly leaving its naturally messy, bedhead state. It goes well with the scruff on his face, giving him an “I didn’t put forth any effort but I’m still cute” look. He throws on some black skinny jeans with a white jumper, putting on his denim jacket for extra warmth at the thought of yesterday’s chilly air.

He glances at the time, sees a big 6:10 AM blinking at him, and sighs.

He has an extra thirty minutes since he woke up before his alarm, and he decides to use this time to actually scrounge up breakfast for once. They say it’s the most important meal.

He walks down his short hallway, glancing at the framed drawings of Zayn’s that cover the walls. Zayn didn’t believe him when Louis said that he would frame and hang up every single picture he drew him and tried to prove it, resulting in some interesting artwork. Louis’ personal favorite is the nude portrait of Niall with a speech bubble saying “Draw me like one of your French girls”. He never particularly wanted to see a depiction of his childhood best friend’s dick, but he has to admit it was tastefully done. 

His kitchen is almost bare, the pale yellow walls and white counters pale in the starch morning light. The only signs of someone living here are a pile of mail, a toaster, and two mugs in the sink. 

Other than when Niall cooks for Thursday dinners, his kitchen goes largely unused. The last time he had actually attempted cooking on his own was when he had gotten spectacularly high and decided to make chocolate chip cookies from scratch. They came out slightly burnt and tasted as if he’d added salt instead of sugar, so he went down to the beach and tried to feed them to the seagulls. The seagulls didn’t like the cookies much either. 

Louis smiles at the memory as he searches in the cabinets for some cereal, only finding his stock pile of pot noodles and tea bags. He sighs and looks in his fridge for something that’s edible. To his disappointment, he only finds a half jug of milk that he would bet money on being expired and an untouched wheel of cheese that he doesn’t remember buying.

With nothing else to do and a promise to himself to go grocery shopping, he grabs the keys to their shop He makes his way out of the flat, figuring he can just open up a bit early. 

When Louis walks out the doors of the building, he’s met with a sprinkling of frigid rain. His nostrils fill with the salty, metallic air as shivers run down his spine. He debates with himself about going back up and getting his umbrella, but in the end he decides against the trek up three flights of stairs.

He trudges along his short walk to work, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. There are fewer people than usual milling around. It’s probably on account of the weather as well as the fact that the nearby university is on winter holiday, with most of the students either home or locked up in their flats fast asleep.

Louis’ eyes are enviously following a lady with a neon orange umbrella when he notices a huge, rainbow banner saying “OPEN” hanging underneath a normal shop sign.

Louis raises his eyebrows at the displayed name: Bump N' Grind. This must be the place Zayn had mentioned taking the bakery’s old spot. Louis looks down at his phone to see the time, figuring he could stop by and get some caffeine and still make it to the shop ahead of schedule.

He crosses the street, and as he gets closer he sees a sandwich board sitting on the sidewalk with the words “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lil Bump N’ Grind” written in a loopy scrawl. A large smiley face with heart eyes is drawn underneath. 

Louis chuckles at that. Honestly, what kind of store is named after R. Kelly lyrics? He’s still smiling as he opens the door. A bell chimes and he’s greeted by a loud “Good morning!” and a grin from the boy behind the counter. The guy has short, brown hair and big eyes that make Louis feel as if he should be apologizing for something he didn’t do.

He makes his way to the counter, the boy’s already large smile seems to grow and he asks in a cheerful tone, a little too loud for the earliness of the morning, “Welcome to the Bump N’ Grind! What can we get you this morning?”

Louis looks up at the menu, which seems to be hand-written in the same cursive writing that was outside. He studies his options before he looks back into those guilt-inducing eyes. 

“Um, I’ll take a plain bagel and a medium iced chai tea, please.” 

The boy’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “Iced?”

“Yeah, you know. Like instead of hot? The chai tea? Do you…” Louis glances back at the menu and then back down. The other boy’s eyes filled with confusion. “Do you not do that here?”

“Oh.” The guy’s eyes flicker to the window and back to Louis a few times before he continues. “Um, yeah. Yeah, we do that here. Sorry. I guess I just wasn’t expecting anyone to order an iced drink this time of year.” His voice regains the cheerful lilt it carried before, and he goes about ringing up Louis’ total and returning his change.

Louis resists rolling his eyes at the comment. He feels inexplicably nauseous when he drinks hot beverages early in the morning. Give him a break.

The barista writes down the type of drink on a plastic cup and sets it on the counter beside him. He turns to the side, facing a door that Louis assumes leads to the back room. His voice is raised slightly, sounding annoyed when he says “Harry, can you come make this drink while I heat up his bagel?”

The barista gets a muffled “Yeah. One sec.” in response. 

Louis stands off to the side near the pick-up counter while the lad gets out his bagel.

He takes the time to look around the place. It’s empty except two middle aged women talking at a table in the corner, two steaming cups between them. The walls are painted a light, almost golden yellow; the counters and tables all a sleek black. Black and white pictures of the ocean and various coffee related objects litter the walls, and two large armchairs sit in a nook in the far corner. The smell of fresh ground coffee beans mixed with a hint of nutmeg along with the soft, tinkling [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7h4xATpv6A) that’s filling the corners of the room make the store seem very homey. 

Louis’ attention snaps back to the counter when he hears a door closing; he looks up as another worker, probably the “Harry” Liam was talking to earlier, emerges. His long, curly brown hair, a touch lighter than the other barista’s, is tucked behind one ear. A dark grey jumper hangs loosely off his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up a little above his wrists. Multiple rings adorn his fingers, glinting in the artificial light. 

Louis’ eyes look to the boy’s face, raking over his features. The lad’s– Harry’s—mouth moves lazily as he chews on gum. Harry looks down at the scribbled handwriting on the cup and then over at the other barista, who is now taking the bagel out of the toaster. 

“This is iced?”

The other boy hums absentmindedly in response, as if putting the warm bagel in a to-go bag was taking all of his concentration. 

Harry looks up with an amused smirk, eyes searching out the customer who ordered an iced drink on a rainy day in December. When his gaze lands on Louis, whose eyebrows are raised in indignation, annoyed by the judgement of his drink choice, his smirk falls away. His mouth has stopped its chewing motion in favor of hanging slightly agape. His large, pale green eyes widen for a second before he hastily looks away, getting started on making the drink.

Before Louis has time to consider what that reaction means, the brown-eyed barista is calling out “plain bagel for Louis”, holding up a white paper bag. 

Louis walks over, grabbing the bag. He’s about to thank him when he sees Harry slowly set the drink down. The other barista must not notice, but Harry doesn’t say anything. Louis watches as the curly haired boy slowly prods the drink with one finger, pushing it across the counter until it’s in his coworker’s line of sight. A look of confusion briefly passes across the boy’s face at the sudden appearance of the drink but it’s quickly replaced with a smile. 

“Oh! And here’s your drink as well. Have a good day!”

“Thanks, mate. You too.” Louis replies, grabbing his drink with the hand that’s not holding the bag. The barista’s smile grows, his eyes squinting further. 

Louis glances over at Harry as he’s walking to the door. The strange boy’s eyes are boring into Louis in a way that’s honestly kind of creepy. When he realizes he’s been caught staring, Harry quickly turns away and starts vigorously wiping down the counter. Weird.

The other barista spares his coworker a confused glance before making his way back to the till. Louis pushes the door open with his elbow, letting the cold reclaim its home in his sockless toes. 

When he makes it to the bookstore, the icy drink has turned the palm of his hand a brilliant shade of pink. His fingers prickle as the warmth of the shop chases away the numbness, and Louis is still thinking about a strange curly-haired, hazy-eyed boy. 

***

Louis arrives back at his flat that afternoon after Zayn took over for the closing shift. He finds Niall sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs back and forth and singing a Ke$ha song quietly to himself. He’s wearing Louis’ favorite pair of trackies—which he’s pretty sure were in his room this morning, making him wonder what Niall was wearing when he came over—and an oversized sweatshirt. Louis feels himself smiling as he walks over to the boy.

“Hey, Ni.” He says. Niall whips his head around. His face lights up as he spots Louis and he jumps off the counter, tackling him in a hug. 

Louis met Niall when they were eight and Niall had just moved to Doncaster from Ireland. This kid, Kelvin Shruber, was making fun of Niall’s accent during recess, taunting him in front of a bunch of kids who just laughed along. The blonde boy was close to tears when Louis walked up to him. He kicked Kelvin in the shin and grabbed Niall’s arm, pulling him away to the other side of the playground. He gave the new boy a hug, patting his back as Niall wiped a few stray tears from his face. The boy still looked sad, so to make him feel better, Louis told him about how Kelvin Shruber peed his pants the year before during nap time. Needless to say, they’ve been inseparable since.

“I’ve missed you, Tommo,” Niall says as he pulls back from the hug, a smile on his face. Louis laughs.

“Niall, you literally saw me two days ago,” he replies, laughter in his voice. Niall’s eyes are bright.

“Yeah, but it was only for like five minutes! I swear if we didn’t do Thursday night dinners I wouldn’t see your stupid face for longer than ten minutes a week,” Niall tuts. Louis doesn’t think that he’s smiled this much around anyone but Niall in a long time. 

“Well, speaking of dinner, what’re we having tonight?” Louis says, changing the subject.

“Dunno. I figured we could just go to the grocery store and pick up whatever looks good.” Louis nods in agreement. He turns around, walking back towards the door with Niall in tow. 

“Oh, Ireland, I meant to ask. What happened to the bottoms you wore over here? Because I don’t remember you borrowing those,” he gestures down to the trackies, “recently.” Niall just laughs loudly in response and opens the door, offering no further explanation. It’s probably best not to know, anyway. 

Many hours later, Niall, Zayn, and Louis all sit on the couch, stomachs stuffed with the dinner Niall cooked, half-heartedly watching a nature documentary. They’re all wrapped up in some of the cozy afghan blankets Niall’s Gran has knitted for Louis over the years. Niall is cuddled against Zayn’s chest and Louis’ eyelids feel heavy as he watches Zayn presses feathery kisses to the blonde boy’s hair out of the corner of his eye.

Thoughts about coffee shops with weird baristas are long forgotten, replaced with the warmth of home and the heavy weight that lies dormant in his chest.

***

Louis finds himself awake at five in the morning on Monday. There’s no light shining through his curtains, leaving his bedroom cloaked in darkness as a shiver runs through his body. He had somehow knocked all of his covers off in the night, so he grabs them from the floor and makes himself a cocoon. Trying to go back to sleep is fruitless; his mind feels too awake, which is strange considering Niall and Zayn hadn’t left until midnight last night.

The store is closed on Sundays, so they had spent the day cooped up in Louis’ apartment. Louis and Zayn watched a documentary on the Holocaust, Zayn doodling lazily on the notebook he keeps at Louis’ for these exact moments. Niall mostly worked on the business aspect of the store: ordering new books, paying rent, and other money things that the other two boys couldn’t bother with. 

Niall was really the reason they had opened the store. After the second of Louis’ mum’s divorces, Louis needed to get away, so he and Niall made the move from Doncaster to the little university town outside of Brighton. Niall had decided to major in business while Louis chose history.

As a kid, he had always found himself interested in monarchies, especially the French monarchy, since so many of them shared his name. That’s how he met Zayn, who was also a history major. They had shared a few classes together before they ever spoke, but the ice was broken after Zayn gave a presentation about Louis XIV, who happens to be, in Louis’ opinion, the best monarch to ever exist.

About a month after Louis had introduced Niall to his new friend, he walked into his and Niall’s shared flat to find the two boys cuddled up on the couch, kissing languidly. He never really questioned them about it and they had never really offered an explanation other than the one time Niall drunkenly rambled about how they “just worked”. 

Their junior year, Niall and Zayn came to Louis late one night, seemingly high off their asses, with the proposition of opening their own bookshop. Louis didn’t really have any better plans after graduation, so he agreed easily and the rest is, well, history. 

After a while of twisting and turning and too many sighs, Louis gets up. His legs and his mind feel restless. Maybe he’ll stop by that coffee place again. It’s been about a week since he first went and the drink had been pretty good. Plus, there’s nothing else to do, and a short walk could help to ease the restlessness in his bones. 

He goes through his morning routine and gets dressed slowly. He decides to wear a long-sleeve, dark grey shirt that belonged to one of his ex-boyfriends. He doesn’t remember which one, but his best guess would be Carlton since the shirt hangs down to his mid-thigh. Carlton was a certifiable giant. He puts on black jeggings underneath—they’re comfortable, it’s whatever—and shrugs on his trusty denim jacket. 

The walk to Bump N’ Grind isn’t that long, so his limbs are only partially frozen when he gets there. It’s not quite yet six, and the lights inside the store shine through the front windows, illuminating the otherwise dim street. Walking in, the bell dings lightly, and the smell of coffee and nutmeg washes over Louis as he’s enveloped in the warm air. The store is empty, no one occupying the tables or armchairs. No soft music is playing. No one is even behind the counter. Which. Well. That doesn’t seem right. 

Shit. What if they’re not open yet? Did Louis just break in? But, no, he couldn’t have. The door was unlocked and the lights are on. But no one is working, which is cause for concern. Maybe if Louis just walks out quietly, he can just pretend that he didn’t barge into a store that hasn’t opened yet. No one will be the wiser. 

He’s turning, in full stealth mode, getting ready to walk out when, as if on cue, music begins to play from the speakers and the strange barista from last time—he thinks his name was Harvey? Harry? Yeah, Harry—walks out of the employee door whistling along to the tune. Louis freezes. Maybe he won’t notice him and he can still slip out of here, but then the whistling stops abruptly. Shit.

“Um. Excuse me, sir.” Louis turns his body to face the curly-haired barista. His eyes flicker with recognition once he sees Louis’ face, and wait. Is that a blush? Why is he blushing? If anything, Louis should definitely be the one blushing in this situation. 

“Hi. Yeah, sorry. I’ve just realized that you guys don’t seem to be open quite yet. I can just…go.” 

“No!” Harry’s eyes widen, surprised by his own outburst. “I...I mean you don’t have to go. We open in like,” he looks down at his phone, “five minutes, so it’s really not a big deal.”

“I mean if you’re sure…” Louis takes a few steps closer to the counter. Harry is now standing behind the register, a small smile on his face. “I really am sorry though. I know I’d be annoyed if someone just waltzed into my store before we opened.” 

Harry shrugs. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it.” His smile seems genuine, which helps to alleviate some of Louis’ embarrassment. He smiles back at the barista before looking up at the menu. 

“So what do you recommend?” 

“Hmm. I don’t know.” Harry draws the sentence out slowly. “It really depends on what mood you’re in, ya’ know.” Louis looks down to see the boy take a pack of gum out of his back pocket. He takes out a piece and then holds the packet out in offering to Louis, who politely declines. Harry places the packet in his back pocket and pops the unwrapped piece of gum in his mouth.

“You can never really go wrong with a mocha, but caramel lattes are also really popular. Oh! And my personal favorite is a white chocolate mocha with a shot of raspberry. Raspberries are the best.” His words are dragged out as if he’s putting a lot of thought into what he’s saying.

He smacks his gum as he chews it slowly. It must be cinnamon flavored. Louis can smell it from across the counter. Everything about this guy’s movements is slow, like he’s moving through water.

“Well, I think I’ll have a medium mocha. Iced, please.” Louis decides, shooting him a smile. 

Harry raises his eyebrows as he takes out a cup, not commenting on Louis’ choice of getting it iced. Which, good. Louis should not be judged for his drink preferences. 

“So what’re you doing up so early, if you don’t mind me asking?” Harry says, turning around to start on making the drink. 

“I’m off work today, but I don’t think my body knew that.” Louis replies, not mentioning how he feels too big for his skin or how he’s bitten his nails down so much they bled on the way there.

He walks over to the pick-up counter and leans against it. The restlessness that he felt when he woke up is waning, slowly being replaced by exhaustion. Of course he’s starting to feel tired again as soon as he’s about to drink coffee. Maybe once the caffeine wears off he’ll take a nap. 

“Oh? Where do you work?” Harry puts the lid on the iced drink and walks over to where Louis stands against the counter. 

“Thanks…” Louis pauses for the barista to fill in his name, not wanting to say it and end up being wrong.

“Harry.”

“Thanks, Harry. ‘S called Blank Page. It’s a bookstore like two blocks away.” He puts a straw in his drink and takes a sip. It sends a chill down his spine, but it tastes great. Good job, Harry. 

“Oh, cool. Do you go to the uni?” He walks over to wipe down the area he just made Louis’ drink in. He’s still smacking his gum.

“No, graduated almost two years ago. Me and my mates actually own the bookstore. It’s our small business or whatever it is they call it.” Louis picks at a hangnail on his thumb. It begins to bleed slightly, but he just ignores it.

“Wow, really? That’s so cool! I’ll have to stop by some time.” Harry is looking at him now. His face is excited, making Louis’ cheeks heat up. He always gets all blush-y when people show interest in the store. It’s their baby. 

He smiles back at the barista. “Yeah, you should.” There’s a pause. Harry’s looking at Louis. Louis’s looking at his mangled cuticles. He finally asks, “So, do you go to the uni?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the p. He’s leaning against the counter, fingers playing with his rings. “I graduate in May, which is exciting.”

“Oh? What’s your major?”

“Accounting.” Which, okay. That’s not what he was expecting to come from this long-haired boy who has rings on almost every finger, holes in his jeans, and what seems to be a multitude of tattoos poking out from where the sleeve of his white Henley is rolled up. 

“Oh that’s…cool.” Louis sends him a small smile.

Harry laughs a little at that. “Everyone’s always surprised when I tell them for some reason. But yeah, it’s cool. I like it. I like numbers.”

Louis can’t relate to that. At all, but, “To each their own, yeah?”

They look at each other, small smiles on their lips. The moment seems gentle, but it’s broken when the bell dings. They both turn to see a business man walk in, phone to his ear. As Harry takes the man’s order, two women in thick, woolen coats walk in, heads bowed in conversation. 

Well, looks like it’s time for the morning rush. Louis makes his way over to the door. When he pushes it open, a cold gust of wind hits him. He looks over at Harry, who’s already looking at back. A sad smile is on his face as he waves goodbye to Louis. Louis waves back and holds the door open for the old lady who walks slowly into the store. 

The sky’s turned a dusky shade of blue and Louis takes the long way home. The cold soaks into his bones. The hand that holds his drink feels as if it may fall off. The sky is pink and orange with sunrise when he finally gets back to his flat.

***

Louis has an hour until Niall comes in for the closing shift. He’s been sat behind the counter since seven, listening to the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfamyXYFiPM) play softly from his phone and reading a biography of King James. The rain beats steadily against the windows, mixing with the soft creaking of the floorboards as two teenage girls search the fiction section. 

His eyelids feel heavy. He marks his page and buries his head in his arms. A nap sounds like heaven right now. He’s been taking a lot of naps lately. After he got home yesterday, he curled up on his couch and turned on the first Harry Potter movie. He only made it to the sorting hat before he fell asleep, and he didn’t wake up until noon. It was wonderful. 

He’s thinking about finishing the movie once he gets home when he hears someone clearing their throat above him. He jumps slightly before lifting his head to find another Harry standing in front of him. Today he’s got on a light grey hoodie and his hair fluffs out from under an olive green beanie. The color makes the green in his eyes stand out, vibrant even in the dim lighting of the shop. He’s chewing gum again in the same, slow way. Louis is sure that his breath smells of cinnamon. 

“Well hello, young Harold.” Louis grins up at him. 

“Hello, old Louis. How’re you today?” Harry’s smile makes a dimple appear on one cheek. Cute. 

“Can’t complain. How about you?” 

“I’m great. Had today off so I figured I’d pop by and check the place out,” he says, glancing around the shop. “It’s really very lovely.”

The walls are chipped, in need of a new coat of paint. The bookshelves are different colors and sizes because when they first opened, they bought the cheapest ones they could find from multiple stores. The floorboards creak pretty much everywhere you step and the ceiling has water damage in multiple areas. It’s run down and it’s Louis’ and it really is very lovely. 

“Thank you. I quite like it as well.” Harry looks like he’s about to reply when the two teenage girls come stand behind him. Louis looks around the boy to tell them, “I can check you out up here, loves, if you’re ready. He’s not in line.” 

Harry moves over to the side to allow the girls access to the counter. He stands with his hands behind his back, feet pigeon-toed. Louis can hear his gum smacking as he rings the girls up and swipes the credit card. He glances over at Harry while one of them signs the receipt to find the boy watching him with a quiet intensity, not unlike the first time he was at the coffee shop. 

As the girls walk away, Louis looks at him properly. The tall boy stands like he doesn’t want to take up a lot of space and speaks like he’s reading a eulogy. The boy’s eyes are the same color as the shallowest parts of the ocean. He silently judges Louis’ preference for iced drinks but never comments on it. He seems interesting in a way that Louis would normally look for in potential boyfriends, but he also seems…different. 

“What’s your last name?” Louis asks, startling Harry who was trying to read the upside-down title of Louis’ book. 

“Styles. What’s yours?”

“Tomlinson.”

“Suits you.”

“Thanks. Do you have plans for the next,” Louis looks at his phone, “forty-five minutes?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Well, Curly Styles, would you care to sit with me until Niall comes in?” The small smile that had settled on Harry’s lips during the conversation turns into a toothy one at the nickname. 

“Sure,” he replies. Louis’s already gotten up and is walking towards the back room. They call it a back room, but the room only holds sparse cleaning supplies and an extra wooden chair that’s in worse shape than the one already behind the counter. Niall and Zayn use it when they want to keep the other company during their shifts. 

“Who’s Niall?” Harry asks as soon as Louis sets the chair at the edge of the counter. Harry sits down in it as Louis settles himself back into his own chair.

Louis smiles at the question before he dives in. The conversation flows easily. Louis sits sideways in his chair to face Harry as he tells him about Niall and Zayn. He tells him about sharing a flat with Niall in uni and about the time Zayn got a D in his public speaking class so they used the professor’s email to subscribe to dozens of online sex shops’ mailing lists. 

He shares stories about being in school and about their bookshop, and in return, Harry tells him about his best mate, Ed, who is back in London for winter hols. Harry tells him about his affinity for baking and about the time he and Ed got smashed after finals and ended up streaking across the courtyard in front of the music building. He tells Louis about the barista with the guilt-trip eyes, whose name is Liam. Liam’s parents actually own the store plus a few other locations around Brighton. He’s apparently quite posh and gets mad at Harry for always eating fruit in the backroom when business gets slow. 

Niall walks in while they’re laughing at Harry’s story about the time he got locked in the library.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Niall’s voice abruptly stops their giggling. Harry jumps to his feet, looking like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Louis ignores that strange reaction and beams up at his best friend. “Ni, this is Harry. He works at the new coffee shop.”

“Oh, hey. ‘m Niall. It’s nice to meet you.” He raises an eyebrow at Louis before smiling sunnily at Harry, who grins back easily. 

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you too! You guys have a lovely store.” Niall glances back over at Louis and they share a proud look. 

“Thanks, mate. She’s a real beauty,” Niall says as Louis begins to gather his things, unplugging his phone from the speakers. 

“Alright Nialler, I’m outta here. Be good to the customers. Don’t forget to lock the door on the way out this time.” Louis walks out from behind the counter. Niall wraps him up in a hug, always so tactile. 

“That was only one time, you tosser.” Niall releases him from the hug and plants a kiss on the top of his forehead. “I’ll see you Thursday?”

“Always.” Louis begins walking towards the door, Harry following close behind. “Bye,” he calls, sending one last wave over his shoulder. 

“Bye. It was nice meeting you, Harry,” Niall replies as [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHDUSBdlKsE) begins to flood the speakers again. Harry waves enthusiastically before the door closes behind them. 

Once they’re outside, shivers wrack through Louis’ body. The rain from earlier has calmed into a light drizzle, but the cold makes it feel like needles as it hits his exposed skin. 

“Which way are you walking?” He asks the taller boy standing beside him. Harry pulls the hood of his hoodie up, looking just about as miserable as Louis feels in this weather. 

“That way.” He’s pointing in the direction of Louis’ flat. 

“Me too.” Louis nods his head in the direction they need to go, signaling for Harry to walk with him. Louis’ shoes are soaked through, his toes numb as they walk in a peaceful silence.

They don’t say much of anything during the ten minute walk, the occasional bump of arms as a reminder of the quiet company. 

Louis had thought that maybe Harry could be his next fling, another person to waste away the time with. But after today, after talking to him and getting to know this strange boy, he doesn’t think that could happen.

Harry’s too…much. He’s different and Louis doesn’t think he could watch Harry turn into another meaningless ex. So, he’s decided to befriend him, which admittedly is unusual for Louis, who tends to keep his friend group as small as possible.

Friends. Louis can make a new friend. It’s been a while since he’s tried—the last one being Zayn—but he’s sure it can’t be too hard.

As they approach Louis’ building he stops, grabbing Harry’s arm to stop him as well. 

“Thanks for keeping me company today, Curly.” Louis smiles up at the younger boy. Harry’s nose is red from the cold and his smile is genuine.

“No problem. It was nice.” Harry is still chewing on his gum. It has to have lost all flavor by now. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” He asks as he starts walking to the door. 

“Definitely.” Harry’s dimple is on full display. Louis waves and opens the door, walking into the warmth of the building.

***

The sun is out, no clouds in sight, as Louis goes to work the next day. He doesn’t feel any of its warmth, though, just a salty breeze that causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. It makes the sunshine feel hollow, just an illusion of warmth with no real substance. 

He greets Zayn as he watches him gather his belongings. 

“Oh, hey, some guy was here earlier asking for you. Told him you were coming in later. He stood around for a while before he left. Said he was going to work and asked me to tell you that he said hello.” Zayn raises his eyebrows questioningly at Louis, probably confused about Louis knowing someone that he hasn’t met. 

“Was he tall, limbs a bit too long? Curly hair?” Zayn nods in confirmation, eyebrow still raised. “Oh, that’s Harry. He works at that new coffee shop. He’s nice. ‘M considering being friends with him.” 

“Friends? Or something more than friends?” 

“Friends. Just friends,” Louis says, determined. Zayn studies him for a while before a smirk blooms across his features.

“Alright, cool.” He’s still smirking as he walks from behind the desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lou.” Louis shakes his head and listens to the click of the door closing. 

He sits down in the hard, wooden chair, starts up his music and takes out his book. The lavender scent that always permeates the shop is stronger today than usual. Zayn must have changed out the air fresheners. He doesn’t think the three of them will ever get the smell out of their clothes.

The hours pass, the sun sets, and Louis locks up the shop. Blank Page closes at nine, but Louis’ pretty sure that Bump N’ Grind doesn’t close until ten. Hm. Maybe he should stop by, say something to Harry. It would be the courteous thing to do, right? A friendly gesture towards a potential new friend. Harry did stop by asking for him today, after all. It’s not like Louis’ company is unwanted.

When he walks through the doors of the coffee shop, he sees Harry at the till. The younger boy’s head is down as he doodles on a napkin. When the bell on the [door](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7MaymsFzWKQ) chimes, his head snaps up and, upon seeing Louis, a smile breaks across his face. 

“Louis! Hi.” He tucks his lips in his mouth, as if he’s trying to keep his excitement in, and gives a small wave.

“Hey Harry. Zayn told me you stopped by earlier. Sorry I wasn’t there.” Louis can’t help the smile on his own face at the sight of this ridiculous barista. His hair is in a bun today. Small strands have fallen down, framing his face. He’s got on the most beautiful lilac jumper Louis has ever seen. 

“It’s okay. I just had a bit of time before I came into work and decided to stop in. Don’t worry about it.” He’s waving his hands around. Maybe he’s trying to signal the act of not worrying about it, but Louis isn’t sure. It kind of just looks like he’s swatting at a fly. 

Louis tries not to laugh.

“I like your jumper. That color is lovely.” Harry’s eyes light up at the comment. 

“Thank you! My sister, Gemma, got it for me. It’s really very soft. Here, look. Come feel it.” He holds out his arm towards the other boy, wiggling his fingers. 

Louis walks over and strokes the jumper. Wow. It really is soft. Louis wants to steal it. “It’s very nice, Harry. Good job, Gemma.” 

Harry’s smile widens, dimple on full display. “I’ll tell her you like it. She’ll be pleased.”

Louis smiles and opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him.

They must not have heard the bell ring because when he looks back, there’s a middle aged businessman with black hair standing uncomfortably close to him. His expression is annoyed. This in addition to his goatee and very angular eyebrows gives him a very sinister appearance. Louis has to hold in his giggle. He honestly looks like a cartoon. 

“Are you going to be ordering any time soon or are you two just going to stand here and talk all night?” He straightens his tie as he says it as if to make himself seem very important. 

Louis glances over at Harry, who looks as if he’s struggling to find a response. “Sorry, sir. You can go in front of me. Wouldn’t want to make you wait any longer,” Louis says, with his most charming smile and his most sarcastic tone. The man just raises his chin, nose turned up, and stalks past Louis. 

Harry takes the man’s order diligently, his mouth moving to smack on his gum. The man eventually goes off to the side by the pick-up counter, scrolling vigorously on his phone in a way that makes it obvious that he’s not actually looking at anything. 

Louis walks back up to Harry, who gives him an apologetic smile. “Hey, I need to make his drink real fast. Liam had to leave an hour early tonight, so I’m alone back here.” 

“Alright. Might want to hurry up though. That man obviously has some very important things to be doing.” He smirks at the barista, who in return lets out a loud, goose-like laugh. That laugh is definitely in the top three best laughs Louis has ever heard, right behind his mum and Niall’s. 

He watches on as Harry hastily makes the drink. When he gives it to the sinister businessman, the guy doesn’t even acknowledge him. No “thanks”, no smile, not even a nod. What a dickhead. 

Once the man is out the door, Louis turns to Harry. “I hate that guy. He didn’t even say thank you.”

Harry blushes. The kid is blushing, oh god. “Don’t worry about it. ‘S not a big deal.”

“I should have tripped him on his way out.” Harry just smiles and shakes his head. He looks like he’s about to say something in response but Louis’ phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a text from Niall. 

_me and Z are heading over 2 urs w pizza. u have Matilda on dvd, right?_

Louis shakes his head before replying with an _of course_. He looks up at Harry, who’s gazing at him questioningly. 

“Apparently Niall and Zayn are headed to my flat. They want to have a movie night.”

Harry smiles, but it’s smaller than usual. “Alright, well, can I get you something to drink before you go?” 

“I probably shouldn’t. I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.” Harry looks down at his hands, playing with the ring on his middle finger. “Well, Curly,” Harry looks back up at that, his eyes bright. “I must be off, but I’ll see you around, yeah?” Harry nods quickly in response. 

Louis turns, walking towards the door when Harry shouts “Wait!”

He looks over at the boy whose eyes are wide, surprised by his own outburst. “Wait, Louis, can I get your number? Maybe? I…I mean you don’t have to. I just thought we could, you know, text and that way I can ask if you’re working so I don’t embarrass myself in front of your friends again.” He’s talking so fast Louis only catches about half of what he’s saying before he starts to trail off. “It’s not a big deal if you don’t want to. I just…I just figured I’d ask…” Harry looks back down at his hands as Louis walks over to the counter. He grabs a napkin, causing Harry to look up at him, his eyes hopeful.

“D’you have something I can write with?” Harry practically throws a sharpie across the counter at him. Louis scribbles down his number, adding a smiley face at the bottom to show that he’s cool and personable. “Text me, okay? I really have to go, though.”

Harry doesn’t reply as he’s walking out the door, but when Louis gets to his flat, his phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number, containing the word “Hi” with about four smiley faces. He texts back _Harold?_ , receiving a whale emoji in response. He takes that as a confirmation.

It isn’t long before Niall and Zayn arrive. During the movie, they ask several times who it is that Louis keeps texting. Louis just shrugs it off.

***

“Louis! I am tired of you keeping your new friends from us!” Niall bangs into Louis’ flat early Sunday morning. Sometimes Louis regrets giving him a key.

Niall stomps over to where Louis is sitting and flops down dramatically on the couch. Zayn walks in behind him, closes the door softly, and makes his way over to the other boys. Niall lifts his legs up, allowing his boyfriend to sit, and then puts his feet back into Zayn’s lap. Niall’s head is resting on Louis’ thighs as he looks up at him, pouting. 

“I’m not keeping him from you, Niall. I’ve told you on multiple occasions that he is on a friendship trial-run. We can’t just let people into our friend group all willy-nilly. You’ve got to weed out the weak ones first,” Louis says as he runs his fingers through Niall’s hair. His blond hair started turning brown when they were ten and he started bleaching it when they were fourteen. It still feels soft against his fingertips. 

Niall’s eyes flutter closed. “You’ve been saying that for over a week now. You guys text all the time, he’s always there during your shifts, and you’ve been going to that coffee shop way too often. You don’t even get a drink every time you’re there, so don’t even tell me that you’re going for the beverages.” He peeks one eye open. “We want to meet him. Soon.” Louis looks up at Zayn who just blinks back at him slowly. He sighs. Zayn is of no use when it comes to Niall. 

“I don’t go to the coffee shop just to see Harry, thank you very much. His coworker Liam is also very quickly becoming a friend of mine.” Niall gives him his best one-eyed unimpressed look. “Plus, in a few days the shop closes for a week, during which we will be far away in Donny, so now is not really the best time. Maybe after we get back, yeah?” 

The Irish lad closes his one open eye and smirks. “Ah see, I thought you would say something like that, but you know what would be the perfect time for us to properly meet him?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “Sunday. Next Sunday. You can even invite that Liam fellow as well.” 

Next Sunday is the day that they plan to repaint the entire inside of the shop. They’ve scheduled it so that it has time to air out a bit while they go back to Doncaster for the holiday. 

“Niall, do you really want to be friends with Harry or are you just using him for manual labor?” Louis asks, eyebrows raised. Niall can’t see it, but the smile on his face tells Louis that he still knows. 

“Hey, it’s the best of both worlds. Harry officially gets inducted as a full-time friend and we get an extra set of hands to help us paint. ‘M a genius.” 

Louis sighs and shakes his head. His best friend is ridiculous. He shifts a little as he takes out his phone and sends a text to Harry asking if he’d want to help them paint on Sunday. The response comes almost instantly.

“He says Liam works almost all day and will be unable to attend, but that he can come after he gets off his shift.” Niall lets out a “Hoorah!” at his victory. “I hope you know that since you’re expediting the friendship induction, you owe us all Chinese take-out after.” 

Niall finally opens both of his eyes, a large grin on his face. He looks too smug for Louis’ liking. “Deal. Now, d’you guys wanna play Monopoly? I’m in the mood to kick some arse.” 

“I call being the car,” Zayn says, speaking for the first time since he and Niall arrived. Niall groans out his complaints, but Louis doesn’t mind. He’s always the thimble anyway.

***

Louis, Niall, and Zayn had spent the past two hours moving all of the bookshelves, as carefully as possible, away from the walls and covering all surfaces with a tarp. They’re now taking a breather, as reward for their hard efforts, and waiting for Harry. He said he’d join them as soon as his shift is over, which should be in just a few minutes. 

Zayn’s telling him about some documentary he watched yesterday about the Huns, Louis making a mental note to look it up before they leave for Doncaster in a few days. Suddenly Niall bumps his arm. He looks over at the boy, excitement written all over his face. 

“Lou, it’s our [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4eyfIJmhkmQ)!” Louis hadn’t noticed that the song that was playing before has now been replaced by quiet jungle sounds. He looks at his best friend and smiles. They both stand up. He and Niall always loved this song, even dragged Zayn along with them to their concert in London last year. It would blasphemous not to dance along. 

As the beat starts, Zayn stands back watching as his boyfriend and his best friend make fools of themselves. The floorboards creak under their feet as they dance around each other. They’re going all out, eyes closed as the rhythm flows in and out of their bodies. Louis shakes his hips to the beat while Niall waves his arms around in the air, both moving wildly, getting lost in the sounds that echo around them. They shimmy back and forth, facing each other, smiles on their faces. As the beat starts up for the last verse, Louis turns around and sticks out his bum, playfully grinding on Niall. 

All he can hear is the music, Zayn’s catcalling, and his and Niall’s laughter bouncing off the walls. Which is why, after the song ends, he’s surprised to look up and see Harry standing by the door, his eyes dark, staring at the pair with that quiet intensity of his. 

“Oh, hey Harry. Didn’t hear you come in,” Louis says, slightly out of breath. 

“Oh,” his voice sounds deeper than usual. He clears his throat and wets his lips before he continues. “I haven’t been here long. You two have got some great moves, though.”

Niall laughs loudly, answering before Louis gets the chance. “Thanks, mate. We’ve had a lot of practice.” He sends Harry a wink before walking over and putting his arm around Zayn’s shoulders. Harry’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Zayn just smiles dopily at him. “So, you boys ready to start painting?” 

Louis and Zayn take off their jackets while Niall and Harry both strip off their jumpers, leaving them all in plain shirts that they don’t mind getting paint on. They each grab rolling brushes and begin to paint the walls a light greyish-blue—“Oh hey, Louis it’s like your eyes.” “Shut up, Harry.”—that Niall and Zayn had picked out Thursday while Louis was working. He thinks it was a good choice. It makes the shop seem lighter, counteracting the heavy bookshelves and dark wooden floors. Music continues to filter through the store as they work, the smell of lavender vanishes, masked by the stench of the paint. 

Harry gets along with the boys better than Louis could’ve hoped. Zayn chats with him about American football, which is a subject Louis will never understand. And, he exchanges stories with Niall, who is currently telling him, as he does with everybody he meets, about the time when they were little and Louis fell into some mud on a field trip. He had to walk around for the rest of the day looking like he had shit on the back of his pants. It was traumatizing. Niall laughed until he cried at the time and he still cackles about it to this day.

He’s a horrible friend, so Louis doesn’t feel bad at all when he rolls a line of paint up the back of Niall’s white t-shirt. Niall squawks loudly, whipping around to glare at Louis. Louis laughs loudly, head tipped back. Which is exactly when Niall takes his opportunity for revenge, rolling a line across his belly. Louis stops laughing and looks down at his previously black vest. He looks back up to see Niall smirking at him, challenge in his eyes. Louis smirks back. It’s on. 

After about thirty minutes, they stop the paint fight. Harry had gotten in on the action when he came to Louis’ defense after Niall smeared paint all over Louis’ bum. Zayn had somehow managed to stay clean, even though he definitely got paint on both Harry and Louis. 

“Okay truce! Truce! No more paint. Please.” Niall calls out, stopping Louis from rolling his paint brush on the lad’s blonde hair. 

“Fine. Truce.” Louis holds out his hand for Niall to shake, and then offers the same hand to Harry. Once they’ve all shaken hands and sworn oaths of peace, they go back to painting the shop. 

Another hour later, they’ve finally finished painting, but they all feel exhausted. Louis and Harry sit in the old wooden chairs while Niall and Zayn sit on the floor. Zayn’s legs are spread to give Niall room to lounge between them, chest pressed to back, Zayn murmuring into Niall’s neck. They always seem to fit together so effortlessly, even while Niall is covered in drying paint.

Louis sighs and looks over at Harry, finding the other boy already looking at him. “I know I promised that Niall would buy us Chinese food, but can I get a raincheck on that?” He looks down at himself, clothes and skin all covered in a greyish-blue. “I think I need to shower a few dozen times.”

Harry laughs softly, his eyes gentle. “Yeah, Lou. I’ll hold you to it, though. Don’t think I’ll let you get out of feeding me take-out.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Curly.” 

The sky is setting outside. Hues of purple, pink, and orange shine through the window of the shop. Soft music filters through the speakers. 

***

 

Two days later, Louis, Niall, and Zayn drive Niall’s old, rusted hatchback up to Doncaster. Louis spends his birthday and Christmas wrapped up in blankets in front of the fire. He attempts to help his mum cook a feast and they drink wine together after his sisters are asleep, talking about everything except the heaviness that’s made a home in Louis’ chest. No one ever talks about that.

He plays with his sisters outside under the cold sun, snow falling around them, and braids their hair as they drink hot cocoa. They all eat too much cake and drink too much tea and life moves slowly but not quite slow enough.

Harry texts Louis the whole time, of course, making sure to send birthday and Christmas wishes. He went home for the holidays as well. Louis receives many updates that always include pictures of Gemma, to which he replies with an assortment of pictures of his siblings, Niall, and Zayn. Harry tells Louis that he misses seeing his face. Louis answers with a fleeting statement, just to change the subject, but late at night, wrapped in blankets that do nothing to stop the coldness under his skin, he feels like he might be missing Harry too. 

The trip back is quiet; the air in the car feels stale, stagnant. The [radio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSFv0u-O7Q4) buzzes softly in the background. Niall drives and Zayn sits in the passenger seat. They’re holding hands over the middle console while Louis drifts to sleep in the back seat. 

***

“So, do you have any plans for tomorrow?” Harry’s sitting in a chair next to him, painting Louis’ nails a soft pink. He says it’ll help keep Louis from biting his nails as much. 

The polish feels cold on his skin every time Harry misses the nail. It’s okay, though, because Harry always rubs the stray color off gently, shooting an apologetic smile to the older boy. 

“No. ‘M gonna be all alone. It’s pitiful.” Louis pouts dramatically at Harry. He doesn’t even look up from Louis’ hands, just continues to loudly smack his gum. Rude.

“What about Zayn and Niall?” 

“They go up to Donny during Christmas to see Niall’s parents since we have a bigger break then and it’s so far away. Zayn’s parents just live just an hour away, so they go stay with them for a few days for New Year’s, which leaves me perpetually ringing in the New Year alone.” 

Harry finally looks up from his ministrations, a frown on his face. “That sucks, though.” And then his face brightens, eyes lighting up. “Lou, I’m here this year!” Louis stares at him blankly.

“I normally go home for all of winter hols, but this year I’m working, so that means I’ll be alone as well!” Louis doesn’t understand why he’s so excited to be alone, but it is Harry. Harry’s a strange fruit. At his silence, Harry gives him a pointed look. “Lou, we’ll both be alone. So, obviously we should ring in the new year together, yeah?” Oh. Louis’s an idiot.

“That is a great idea, Young Harold. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” Harry beams at him as Louis gently pats his head, careful not to mess up his freshly painted nails. “Oh wait, should we invite Liam? Do you know if he has plans?”

Harry shakes his head quickly. “No. No, I think he has plans. He was talking about having to go to some fancy dinner at his parents’.”

“Alright. Just me and you, then.” Louis knows he shouldn’t poke Harry’s resulting dimple since his nails are still wet. He does it anyway, only smearing a minimal amount of polish on his cheek. Harry’s resulting squawk was worth it. 

The next day, Louis searches out a Chinese take-away place that is still open on New Year’s Eve, determined to give Harry his promised reward for helping them paint. It was supposed to be Niall getting it, but he’ll just get him to pay him back later.

Harry’s supposed to come over at eight. By the time Louis picks up the food and gets back, he has just enough time to put some stray cups in the sink and straighten out the afghan that’s draped over the back of his couch. It’s the most cleaning he’s done in a while. 

There’s a knock on the door and Louis scurries over, swinging it open. He’s greeted with Harry standing there in a striped sea-foam green shirt with a thick black jacket over it, jeans with holes ripped in the knee—the exposed skin slightly redder than normal from the cold—and a small smile on his face. The top half of his hair is up in a ponytail while the bottom half hangs down, curling loosely against his neck. His hands are behind his back and his toes are together. It’s all very adorable.

“Hello. Come in, come in,” Louis steps aside, ushering Harry into his flat. Harry looks around at the faded yellow walls before looking towards Louis. 

“This is for you.” He hands over a present wrapped in bright blue wrapping paper that has little cartoon sharks all over it. His smile is contained but his eyes are bright. 

“Harry… I…I didn’t know we were getting each other gifts,” Louis stammers, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. Shit. He didn’t get Harry a gift. He’s horrible. A horrible person. A horrible new friend.

“Well, we weren’t really. I figured it’s a little too soon for us to be swapping Christmas gifts, but I figured it’s never too soon in a friendship for birthday presents.” Louis sighs.

“You really shouldn’t have, Harry.”

“Just open it.” Louis begins to unwrap it, careful not to tear the paper. He gets it off to reveal a plain cardboard box. The duct tape had already been cut and covered up with scotch tape, so he’s able to pull it open without much effort.

“Oh my god.” Inside the box there are four sets of socks, three pairs in each set. There are multiple rainbow socks, fuzzy socks, toe socks, and some thick, woolen ones. He looks up at Harry, who’s giggling uncontrollably. “You got me socks.” Louis feels speechless.

“I know you didn’t want to get any because you always lose them,”—“I don’t lose them, they disappear. It’s unnatural.”—“But your toes are always cold and I figured you could do with a few pairs.” 

“My toes are not always cold.” Louis raises his nose at him to show his disdain.

“Yes they are. I bet they’re cold right now, aren’t they.” They are.

“Shut up.” He goes up to the taller boy and wraps him in a hug, arms looping around his waist, nose pressed into the crook of his neck. “Thank you, though. Really, Harry, it’s perfect.” 

Harry nuzzles the top of Louis’ head. “No problem, Lou. Happy late birthday.”

Louis steps back, Harry letting go a bit reluctantly. “Well, are you hungry?” Harry nods in reply. “Good. I’ve got you some Chinese take-out, as promised. Take off your jacket. You can just put it wherever.” He heads to the kitchen, Harry following behind him after a moment. 

As he takes out plates and utensils, he sees Harry wander over to his wall with all of Zayn’s framed drawings. He watches as Harry looks at them: an alien, an amazingly detailed drawing of the Sun King’s [emblem](https://www.msu.edu/~williss2/carpentier/part3/sunking.jpg) , a fat bird saying “fuck you”, a landscape of the ocean, a bicycle, and a sketch of the outside of Blank Page. There are a few more on the wall, but once Harry gets to the nude portrait of Niall, he quickly turns back around, eyes wide.

Louis chuckles at the look on his face. “It’s some of Zayn’s art.”

“It’s…nice. He’s talented.” Louis smiles at that and grabs his food, gesturing for Harry to do the same. 

“Come on, then. Let’s pick out a movie.” 

They end up watching a marathon of Disney movies sitting on the couch, Louis’ cold toes tucked under Harry’s thigh, eating Chinese food, and singing along to the songs obnoxiously. Louis feels warm inside as he laughs at Harry’s rendition of “I’ll Make a Man out of You” during _Mulan_. 

The alarm that Louis set on his phone goes off one minute before midnight. They watch the timer tick down, huddled close together under an afghan. When the timer hits midnight, Louis kisses Harry’s cheek; Shang surprising Mulan at her house plays in the background. Harry hides his blush by getting up and taking out the DVD as the credits begin to roll.

After the other boy puts on his next selection, _Sleeping Beauty_ , and situates his long limbs back on the couch, Louis gets hit by the overwhelming realization that this is the best New Year’s he’s had in, well, ever. 

***

Louis’ leaning against the counter [at](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uy8MfFvFEEY) Bump N’ Grind, watching as Harry takes someone’s order and smacks on his cinnamon gum. Liam is at the back counter, hurriedly making drinks. Louis came over after he closed up shop to keep Harry some company before he goes home and eats his weight in the leftover lasagna Niall made for this week’s Thursday dinner. 

Once Harry is done giving the customer their change, he lopes over to where Louis stands.  
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? It’s on the house.” Harry had stopped making Louis pay for his drinks after they had swapped numbers. Louis isn’t sure how he’s allowed to give so much free stuff away, but he’s never asked. 

“I’m sure, but I do have a proposition for you.” 

That makes Harry raise his eyebrows. “Oh? A proposition, you say?”

“Yes. Tomorrow Niall and Zayn are coming to mine. Nothing special, just chilling. And I know you guys have to work on Sundays, but I was wondering if you’d care to join us after?” 

“Yeah! Yeah I can definitely go. We close at six, so I can just go to yours once I’m off.” Harry’s smile is blinding. Louis’ never known someone so easily excited about just hanging out. Except maybe Niall. 

“Cool. Do you think Liam will be able to join us?” Louis looks over at the boy, who’s handing a drink to the last person in line. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. He tends to have a busy schedule. But I can ask him la—“ 

Louis cuts him off, speaking loud enough for Liam to hear. “Oi, Lima.” Liam looks over at him and smiles. “You busy tomorrow?”

“Not at all, Tommo. I’m never busy.” Liam walks over to where they’re standing and slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry normally doesn’t mind when Liam does that, but tonight he seems huffy about it. Liam doesn’t seem to notice, though. “Why?”

“D’ya want to come to mine for a lad’s night? Harry’s coming.” Liam’s smile grows, eyes crinkling. 

“Yeah, of course. Sounds great. What time?”

“I was just going to head over once we get off.” Harry says, his tone sounding a bit disappointed, which… doesn’t really make much sense. 

“Works for me.” Liam pats Harry’s back and walks back over to the espresso machine, beginning to clean it. Harry still looks a bit put-out.

“Y’alright, Harry?” Louis asks, concerned. The younger boy’s mood shifted so fast he doesn’t really understand what happened. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I put you on the spot.” Harry shakes his head quickly. 

“No, it’s cool. It’s great. I’m excited. It’ll be good to see Niall and Zayn again. I like them.” He’s talking slightly faster than his normally morbid pace. Louis doesn’t say anything about it though. He just smiles up at the taller boy.

“Yeah they’re great. I hope they get along well with our Liam, here. It’s unusual for us to let new friends into our group, let alone two at once. They might not be able to handle it,” Louis jokes, well, mostly jokes.

They really don’t make new friends, like ever, but it’s not that they’re all opposed to it. They just haven’t met people that they want to be friends with, especially not since graduating uni. Harry just seems to click with them so well, and Louis has a feeling that Liam will do the same.

“So am I like officially a part of the group now?” Harry tries to sound like he’s joking as well, but Louis can tell that it’s a genuine question. 

“Of course, young Harold. You were inducted when you helped us paint the shop. Your official member’s t-shirt is in the mail.” 

“Good. I’ll be waiting for its arrival.” They both chuckle quietly before Liam’s calling for Harry to help him start locking up. Louis leaves with a wave and a promise of seeing them tomorrow. 

***

Niall and Zayn come bumbling into the flat around five-thirty on Sunday, arms laden with bags of groceries. Louis gets off the couch to help them unpack the food. It looks like they got stuff for Niall to make tacos as well as enough chips and salsa for a small country. They also got Louis a new box of cereal, which he didn’t even know he was out of. 

Louis sits on the counter and watches as Niall bustles around, preparing the food. Zayn’s leaning against the fridge as he tells Louis about the old lady cashier that made a rude comment about it being unhealthy for Niall to bleach his hair. Niall interjects loudly with swears and angry comments about how Zayn bleached his hair too. 

It’s not long before dinner is ready. They’re getting out plates for everyone when there’s a knock at the door. As soon as Louis opens it, he’s pushed aside by Niall.

“Welcome!” The blond boy says, hugging Harry who looks startled but pleased. “Harry, we haven’t seen you in so long. How’ve you been?” Zayn’s now standing under the archway to the kitchen, watching Niall with a serine smile.

“I’m good, Niall. How about you?”

But instead of answering, Niall powers on to Liam, wrapping him up in a hug as well. Liam looks delighted by the sudden embrace. As Niall shouts greetings at the new boy, Louis looks over at Harry, to find him already looking back. They share a small smile. Harry’s in that lilac jumper that Louis loves, his hair down. He looks so soft.

Louis looks back over at Liam. It looks like Niall’s now moved on, back to the kitchen, leaving Liam just standing by himself. He’s looking around the flat and playing with the buttons on his long, black woolen coat, which looks like it costs more than Louis’ rent. It’s then that Louis notices his hands, which are covered in sleek, black leather gloves. Louis loves it; he looks like a high-class criminal.

“Liam, those gloves make you look like a fancy art thief.” Liam looks down at his hands surprised, as if noticing the gloves for the first time. 

“Thanks, mate. I should wear them more often, then.” He looks back up at Louis with a smile that Louis is helpless but to return. 

“Definitely.” Louis is glad he invited Liam. 

Harry clears his throat loudly, making the other two boys look at him, but whatever he was about to say is lost when Zayn calls for them to come eat.

They’re all sitting in the living room after dinner. All of the lights are off, allowing the TV to bathe them in a grey, hazy light. Niall and Zayn are cuddled on one end of the couch, Louis on the other. Harry’s sitting in an armchair slightly to the side while Liam sits on the floor. Louis had tried to give him his spot on the couch, but Liam had insisted that he was fine on the carpet. 

They’ve each had quite a few beers and Louis’ head feels pleasantly fuzzy while they search for a movie to watch on Netflix. 

“Come on let’s watch Titanic. Harry, don’t you want to watch Titanic?” Louis looks pleadingly at the taller boy. 

“Titanic sounds good to me.”

Niall and Liam shrug, but Zayn groans. 

“Not again. How many times have we seen Titanic, Lou? Too many.” 

“No amount of times is too many times to watch Titanic. It’s a cinematic masterpiece,” Louis rolls his eyes. They’ve had this argument before. 

“No it’s not! You just like watching it because you’re in love with Leonardo DiCaprio,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Aww, Lou do you want to date Leo?” Liam asks, looking up at him with his stupid puppy eyes. He shouldn’t have invited him. He could have avoided this betrayal.

Niall burst out at that. “Hah! No way! Louis likes Leo way too much to ever date him.”

“Shut up,” Louis sends his best friend his meanest glare. 

“How could you like someone too much to date them?” Harry asks, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a tiny frown. He’s twisting the rings on his fingers. 

“Tommo, here, doesn’t date guys that he likes. He just finds someone that he deems ‘interesting’ and dates them for a few months to pass the time,” Zayn replies, his tone is teasing. 

Which. Wow. It’s true, but still. The rude fucker is just smiling lazily at him, Niall still laughing into his shoulder. 

“This is all just lies and slander. I, personally, am offended,” Louis balks jokingly, hand to his chest.

“Oh yeah? Who was that last guy you dated? The mechanic with a speech impediment?” Zayn raises his eyebrows at Louis in a challenge. He can hear Liam’s laughter now joining in with Niall’s.

“His name was Johnathan, and, ignoring your blatantly unnecessary judgement of him having a speech impediment, he was quite fit. Good with his hands,” He sends a wink at Zayn, who takes that as a cue to continue. 

“Ok, and the guy before him? Sampson? He was homeless. He literally used you for food and shelter for three months,” Zayn’s eyes are squinting in mirth. Louis feels a smile begin to stretch across his face. 

“Hey, Sampson was super funny. He told the best stories and he made a killer omelet. The relationship was definitely mutually beneficial,” Louis crosses his arms in defiance, ignoring Niall’s shout of “He broke up with you as soon as he got a new job.”

“Ok, but Carlton,” Zayn smiles at him as if he’s won. 

Louis is surprised, calling out, “I thought you guys liked Carlton!?” 

Niall’s laughing so hard he’s crying at this point. “Lou, the most interesting thing about the guy was his button collection.” Louis can’t help but laugh at that, sending Zayn into a fit of giggles as well. He can hear everyone laughing along, except for maybe Harry. Good. Louis can always count on Harry, even when he can’t count on himself.

“He was so nice, though! Plus, he always took me to cool thrift stores and haberdasheries. It was fun.” Niall laughs harder at that, clutching his stomach and muttering “haberdasheries” in between gasps of breath.

“Wait, wait who was before him? I can’t remember,” Zayn says, turning to Niall, who immediately stops laughing. 

Louis can feel himself tense up. The fuzziness of his head quickly turns unpleasant. Thoughts flowing with memories that he wish he could forget. “James,” He replies quietly. 

Realization dawns on Zayn’s face, his smile falling. “Lou…” He says, just as quietly, guilt swimming in his eyes.

The room is silent now, the only noise is the quiet hum coming from the TV. Liam’s sitting on the floor looking confusedly between the three boys on the couch. Louis looks over at Harry, who’s looking back at him questioningly, worriedly. His bottom lip looks red, as if he’s been biting it. His eyes are a bit sad. Louis might’ve asked if he was okay if he wasn’t so caught up in his own head. 

“Alright, so let’s start Titanic then,” Zayn says a little too loudly, breaking the silence. Niall is still looking at Louis with concerned eyes. Louis wishes he could sink into the couch. 

The boys all watch the movie. Jack and Rose are falling in love on the screen, but Louis’ mind is running. James. He hadn’t thought about James in a while. It doesn’t hurt anymore, thinking of him, but every memory surrounding him still feels hollow and polluted. 

 

Louis has only been in love once in his life, and it was with James Carver. They had met at a seedy bar the summer before Louis’ last year of uni. James was a photography major, wanted to work for National Geographic someday and Louis fell fast. James was everything. He got along so well with Niall and Zayn, and made Louis breakfast in bed. He would always take pictures of Louis on his Polaroid camera, tell him he was perfect, and hang the pictures up in his kitchen. They even got a cactus together and named it Cecile. Life was wonderful and sparkling, it was Louis’ first real relationship, and he honestly thought it would be his last. 

The day before graduation James sent Louis a text asking for him to come to his flat. When Louis got there, James told him that they were over. Louis looked into the eyes of the man he loved and was told “You weren’t what I thought you’d be. You seemed cool and a bit mysterious, I guess, but you really just ended up being a bit boring. It was fine while I was in school, but now we’re graduating and to be honest, I think you’d just drag me down. Sorry, but I just need something more.” He hadn’t even let him inside the flat, just stood in the doorway while Louis stood in the hall, his heart shattering into a million pieces.

He asked him, voice shaking, hands shaking, “Did you ever love me or were you just lying the whole time? Did I ever mean anything to you?” In reply he got a “You were fun for a while, babe, but that’s all you were,” and a door slammed in his face.

James kept Cecile and Louis hasn’t had a relationship with someone he really, truly liked in two years. Like Zayn said, he’s just been passing time with people he didn’t care much about and didn’t care much about him in return. It was warm beds and meaningless morning chatter, something to come back to at night. But that was what he wanted because anything else was too much, seemed too fragile. Not worth the risk.

As he watches the ship fracture and that man hit the propeller, Louis feels Niall poke his shin with his toe. He looks over to find Zayn and Niall looking at him with small, questioning smiles. Louis smiles back the best he can, but he can tell that it’s too tight, too small to be normal.

Niall shuffles out of Zayn’s arms and moves to cuddle into Louis instead. Zayn gazes at the two of them with a soft smile on his face. Liam’s eyes are stuck to the movie, seeming a little teary-eyed already. When he glances at Harry, the younger boy is already looking at him, like usual, eyes concerned. Louis sends him a smile, more genuine this time, but he can’t help feeling as if he’s suffocating.

After the boys leave and he gets hugs from each as they go, Louis is left huddled under the blankets on his bed, an ache in his chest and an itch under his skin. Old memories have burned him for so long the pain has numbed, the wounds subsided into glassy scars, but there’s a scratching against his ribcage that seems to be ripping him apart at his gently sewn seams. The weight in his chest is pressing, pressing against his sternum, wanting out.

***

Louis pulls on a pair of [fuzzy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptV_674c9fM) blue socks Harry got him and his grey beanie with the little pom-pom on top. Along with his fluffy grey jumper and the new coat his mum got him for Christmas, he feels very warm and cozy. He just hopes it’s enough to keep him from completely freezing on their Seasonal Beach Picnic today.

 

Four times a year, once per season, he, Niall, and Zayn go down to the beach and have a picnic. It all started when their third year of uni when Zayn and Niall had a drunken argument about the beach only being pleasurable during the summer. Zayn argued that since the water’s too cold during most of the other seasons, it was pointless, but Niall was outraged and somehow they came up with the plan to appreciate the beach during every season by having a picnic. It was all a bit ridiculous but it stuck, this being the fourth annual SBP.

This year Liam and Harry are coming as well. When he asked them last week, neither of them really understood why someone would want to have a picnic during winter, but they both agreed nonetheless. The mark of true friends. 

When he gets to the beach, hands full of crisp packets—his contribution to the picnic— he sees that the other boys are all already there. They’re easy to spot. Their bodies spread out on the large purple blanket Niall and Zayn bring to every picnic standing out, contrasting the cloudy grey sky and the dark, dull blue of the ocean. The wind isn’t too cutting today, but Louis is still glad he bundled up, socks and all. 

“Hello lads. What’ve we got here?” Louis comes up behind them, scaring Liam a bit. Niall ambles up and gives him a hug; he smells of cucumber body wash with a hint of lavender, as usual. Louis is sure the three of them will smell slightly of lavender for the rest of their lives, the scent ingrained in their skin. 

Niall starts rambling off the types of sandwiches he and Zayn made that afternoon, one arm slung around Louis’ shoulder. Louis looks down at the other boys. Zayn is looking up at them, eyes trained on Niall, a soft look on his face. Liam is messing with the cork on a big bottle of…is that champagne? 

He looks over at Harry, who sees Louis look at him and smiles. Louis smiles back. Harry’s got on his black coat with cream sweater underneath. He’s wearing the olive green beanie that he always wears on days he doesn’t have to work. 

His eyes are bright today, cheeks and nose tinged pink from the cold. Louis wants to snuggle him. Which, okay. Louis has never really wanted to snuggle up with Harry before, but he snuggles with Niall all the time. Zayn even snuggles with him on days that he can tell Louis feels a bit sadder than usual. Snuggling is normal friendship behavior. 

He shakes off that train of thought as he and Niall sit down on the blanket. Louis sits next to Harry, who’s still smiling serenely at his profile. “Liam, is that champagne? When you said you’d bring drinks I assumed you meant beers or water or something.”

Liam, who has finally gotten the cork out with a little help from Zayn, starts pouring the champagne into the thin flutes he brought with him. Fancy.

He’s wearing his leather gloves again. “Well, I had two bottles left over from New Years and figured this would be fun.”

Louis hums at the explanation. “Good thinking, Payno.” This earns him a beaming smile from Liam, which causes the lad to spill a bit of the drink on his pants. He just shrugs at the large wet spot on his leg and continues to pour the champagne. 

“I brought some fruit,” Harry says, grabbing Louis’ attention. He shows him his containers of multiple, colored fruits. “The kiwi, oranges, and pears are all in season.” He takes out a separate Tupperware container filled with raspberries. “Raspberries are summer fruits but they’re my favorite so I always stockpile them and freeze it for special occasions.” He’s smiling like he just got away with robbing a bank. 

“Good job, Curly. I’m not sure what I’d do if I couldn’t eat some raspberries today.” Louis can’t help his smile when he sees the pride in Harry’s eyes. 

They eat the sandwiches and crisps. Harry eats a lot of the fruit by himself, but the rest of the boys help here and there, Zayn having stolen most of the pears. They each put one slightly frozen raspberry in their glasses, giving the bubbles a pink hue. By the time the sun begins to set, they’ve already downed the two bottles of champagne Liam brought between the five of them, bubbles now swimming in their veins. 

Niall and Zayn speak in hushed tones before standing up. “Would any of you lads care to join us in a walk on the beach?” Niall looks far too pleased with himself and Zayn’s eyes are gleaming in a way that means they’re up to no good. 

“I’ll go.” Liam stands up to join them, dusting off his leather-clad hands. He still hasn’t taken the gloves off. 

Louis [feels](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyiSg_iNLSI) Harry shifting next to him, getting ready to stand as well. “Hm. I think I’m gonna sit this one out. Don’t really feel like moving much,” Louis feels Harry’s shifting stop.

Harry clears his throat a bit before saying, “Yeah, me too. I’ll just stay here.”

Niall looks between them, his face concentrated before he seems to give up on whatever it was he was thinking about. The three of them walk off towards the water, Niall and Zayn swinging their arms between them as Liam talks excitedly about something. 

Louis watches the sky, colors of the sunset swirling in the sky, muted in some parts by the clouds. They sit in a comfortable silence, the waves crashing in the distance, the wind beginning to pick up. The sun is going farther down, and Louis’ teeth begin to chatter. 

“You cold, Lou?” He looks over to Harry, whose face is looking back at him with concern. 

“A bit,” he rubs his hands together, trying to generate some warmth. He should ask to borrow Liam’s gloves when he gets back. 

He doesn’t even notice Harry moving until his arm comes to wrap around Louis’ shoulders. The taller boy’s body is now blocking the brunt of the wind, and Louis feels instantly warmer as he melts into his side.

He rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, the other boy’s hair tickling his forehead softly. He feels Harry rest his cheek against the top of his head, feels his warm breath coming out in puffs. They watch the sun descend behind the lapping water and breathe in the salty air. It feels like a small forever passes with them huddled together, the sky now that dusky grey color it always is right before it goes completely black. 

A loud shriek makes Louis’ head jerk up, accidentally hitting Harry’s jaw. “Shit, are you okay?” He asks Harry, who’s rubbing his chin. 

“Yeah, it’s alright. I’m fine,” he smiles at Louis to show off how fine he is. “What was that noise, though?” 

Louis turns his head to look down the path the other three boys had taken, seeing three shadowy figures making their way back towards them. “Zayn and Niall probably did something. They were looking a little too mischievous before they left.” 

The three boys come into view. Niall and Zayn are leaning against each other as they laugh, both clutching their stomachs. Liam is pouting, his jeans and a good portion of his jumper are soaking wet. 

“What’d you two do to him? Look at the poor lad,” Louis calls out, sending his two best friends into new bouts of laughter. 

“We could hear him scream from over here,” Harry adds on, a small smile on his face. 

As they get closer Liam huffs out, “They pushed me in the water.” 

“It was so good! You should’ve seen his face, Lou. It was priceless,” Zayn crows. He and Niall are still holding onto each other as they giggle endlessly. 

“It was so cold! And now I’ve got water all in my shoes.” The two boys continue to laugh, and Liam’s face softens looking at them, a small smile forming. After a small pause he adds, “It was pretty funny though. I didn’t even know I could make that noise.” 

“It was quite loud,” Harry says, smiling over at Louis. Louis smiles back as he begins to shiver. All warmth is seeping out of his body now that he isn’t cuddled into the other boy’s side. 

After the laughter dies down, they pack up everything. Niall and Zayn give them all hugs, making sure Liam’s are longer than usual to make up for their teasing, before walking towards their car. 

“Are you sure you guys don’t need a ride?” Liam asks, twirling his key ring around his gloved-finger. 

“Nah, think I’m going to walk. It’s only about twenty minutes away on foot.” Louis replies first. Liam raises his eyebrows questioningly at Harry, who just shakes his head in answer. Liam walks away with a shrug and a wave, and Louis and Harry begin their trek home.

Harry opens his Tupperware container, which is still about half-way full, and they eat raspberries as they walk, complaining about having to work the next day and Louis going on one of his multiple rants about the French aristocracy. He’s not sure how he always seems to get on this topic, but Harry never seems to mind. He even seems to enjoy it, asking Louis questions every once in a while about the different nobility. He also agrees that Louis the XIV is the best king ever. Louis thinks Harry might just be saying that to appease him, but he’ll take it anyway.

When they get to Louis’ building, they part with a hug. Louis’ arms wrap around Harry’s back while Harry wraps his around Louis’ neck. Harry’s neck smells of the salty ocean air and vanilla. Louis breathes deeply. The hug lasts a little too long to be normal, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s hard for Louis to rip himself away from the embrace, but he just ignores that, chalking it up to how warm Harry is.

That night, lying in bed, he feels lighter than he has in a long time.

***

The next Friday after the Seasonal Beach Picnic, Harry and Louis are curled up on Louis’ couch, the credits of a foreign film are rolling across the TV screen. Louis isn’t entirely sure what it was about. Having gotten too tired of reading subtitles at the beginning, he just listened to the rapid French and watched lazily as two women ran around Paris in black-and-white. Harry grabs the remote and begins to flip through the Netflix screen, searching for something else to watch. 

He had been over yesterday with the rest of the boys for Thursday dinner, which now has come to include Harry and Liam every time, as well as pretty much every day before that. The day after the beach, Louis had invited Harry over after he got off work, and they hung out, just the two of them, watching movies and eating cereal. It kind of became a thing and every day this week, Harry has come over after they’re both off work just to lounge about. Everything just feels easy between them. 

It’s quiet other than the sound of Netflix clicking through categories. Louis looks over at the other boy, his eyes trained on the screen, eyebrows furrowed. It’s the only light on in the room, lighting up half of Harry’s face and casting the other half in shadows. 

“Young Harold.” He gets a hum in response. After Louis doesn’t continue, Harry looks over at him, knowing that Louis is waiting for his full attention. “This Sunday is a very, very important day.”

“Oh?” Harry raises his eyebrows at that, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes. This Sunday is January 21st, which is the day that Louis the XVI and Marie Antoinette were executed via guillotine by French revolutionists,” he looks to make sure Harry is still paying attention. He is, of course. “Every year Niall, Zayn, and I have a little party on January 21st in commemoration, and this year you are formally invited to join us. Liam is as well, but I’ll just text him later.” 

“I’d love to come, Lou,” Harry is full-on smiling now. 

Louis frowns at that. He hasn’t even told him what they do at the party yet. “I haven’t even told you how we celebrate, though.” 

“Oh, sorry. Please, go on,” Harry holds his hands up in a placating gesture, his smile even larger now. 

“Thank you,” Louis flicks his hair from his eyes before continuing. “For the party, you will be required to bring some form of cake. Any form is acceptable. I personally like cupcakes because they’re handheld, but that’s neither here nor there. We will drink lots of wine, which I will provide since I cannot bake well enough to supply cake.” 

Harry nods along. “Every year we watch _Les Mis_ and _Marie Antoinette_. You are required to sing along to the song ‘Do You Hear The People Sing?’ in _Les Mis_ as well as quote the line ‘let them eat cake’ in _Marie Antoinette_. If you don’t know the lyrics you may want to look them up, but improvisation is also acceptable. Do you accept these terms?” Louis tries to keep a stern face while looking at Harry’s goofy smile. It’s hard to accomplish, but this is serious business. 

“I accept,” Harry answers, attempting to look serious while he says it and failing miserably. 

Louis relaxes, a smile breaking out on his face. “Good. It’ll be so much fun. It’s our best, most important annual get together. Plus, it’ll be a great last hoorah before you start back to school.”

Harry groans, flopping his head down onto Louis’ shoulder. “Ugh. Don’t remind me,” Louis pats his head and hums in consolation. He takes the remote from the boy’s limp hand and continues their search through Netflix.

They finally pick some documentary about Sea World that Harry’s been begging to watch. As soon as it loads, Harry lifts his head off of Louis’ shoulder and quickly pauses the movie. He looks over at smaller boy, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide. Louis is about to ask if he’s okay, when Harry blurts out, “Doyouwanttocomeovertomorrow?”

What? “What?”

“Sorry.” Harry takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling. “Do you want to come over tomorrow? To my flat? I know you said that you’re bad at baking, but I’m pretty good. We can make cupcakes, and you can help me decorate them and everything.” Harry is avoiding eye contact, picking at a thread on the afghan that’s draped over them. 

Louis doesn’t understand his nervousness. They spend almost all of their free time together anyway. “Yeah sure. Sounds cool. You don’t work tomorrow, yeah?” Harry looks up at him, nodding. “Alright. I’ll come over after my shift is finished.” Louis smiles at Harry, who beams in return.

Harry resumes the documentary. The smile doesn’t leave the younger boy’s face for a long time, which Louis finds mildly inappropriate considering how sad the movie is. He doesn’t mention it, though. 

*** 

After work, Louis begins to walk to the address Harry texted him earlier. He sent it with about twelve smiling emojis, to which Louis had replied with a single shooting star emoji. He’s fairly new to the emoji game, but he’s learning.

The building is slightly nicer than Louis’, even has a little intercom on the side where people have to be buzzed in to go inside. He finds Harry’s name and presses the button, holding it down longer than what’s probably necessary. 

“Hello?” Harry’s deep voice is static-y over the intercom, making him sound more morbid than usual. Louis smiles at that. 

“It’s me, Curly,” Before Louis can even finish his sentence, the door is buzzed open. 

He takes the elevator up to the fourth floor. It’s old and creaky, the lights above his head flickering uneasily to the quiet hum of the machine. He quickly finds flat 4H, and knocks on the large wooden door. It opens and Louis is hit with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla and Harry. 

“Lou!” Harry is smiling down at him, wearing a plain white t-shirt. His hair is up in a bun today, ready for the messy business of baking. “Come in.” 

He shuffles into the flat, and the first thing he notices is the wallpaper. Light purple, baroque wallpaper lines the walls. Every inch of the living room and kitchen covered in it. It even seems to go into the hallway. Louis wonders if it’s in the bathroom and bedroom as well. The rest of the décor is minimalist, all clean and tidy, light grey furniture, white counters and accents. 

“I love your wallpaper,” Louis looks at Harry, who’s observing Louis’ reaction while chewing his gum enthusiastically. 

“Thanks. The previous tenant had it put up. When I moved in, they offered to paint it for me, but I kept it,” he says, twisting the rings on his fingers. 

“Good choice.” They smile at each other. “So, cupcakes?” 

“Yes! Yeah, I have all of the ingredients,” he says, walking into the kitchen, socked feet sliding across the hardwood floors. The floorboards don’t creak as much as the ones at the shop do. 

“Well, I’ll try to help, but I’m quite useless in the kitchen.” 

“That’s alright. You’ll be a pro by the end.” 

Louis laughs at that. “We’ll see.” 

They work quietly, music playing from Harry’s phone. Harry measures all of the ingredients and hands them to Louis to mix into the bowl. Louis doesn’t properly know how to use the whisk and keeps splashing the batter onto Harry’s countertop, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind. He just laughs and wipes it off, moving on the do the next thing. 

They finish making the batter, pour it into the cupcake pan, and stick the pan into the oven. It only has to bake for twenty minutes, so they stand idly in the kitchen talking. Harry tells him about the time he stuck his gum in his sister’s hair when he was mad at her. It was about two years ago and Gemma is still angry at him for it. Louis tells him about the lady who came into the shop today with her Chihuahua. Pets aren’t supposed to be in the shop, but Louis allowed it this time because she let him pet it while she searched for her book. 

The oven beeps and Harry hustles to take the cupcakes out. He ends up knocking the side of his pinkie against the pan, burning it slightly, so he runs it under some cold water and Louis kisses it better to keep the tears out of the younger boy’s eyes. 

They need to let the cupcakes cool off before they decorate them, so they decide to go by the grocery store to buy the wine Louis needs to supply tomorrow.

The walk there is quick. The wind is biting today, but they walk close together, bundled in their coats. 

He buys four bottles of the cheapest rosé they have. Rosé is his favorite. Harry teases him for it, but that doesn’t stop Louis from feeling like a king when he drinks it. Harry grabs a packet of butterscotch hard candies, and the old lady who rings up their items smiles at them like she knows something they don’t. As they walk back to the flat, they both suck on a butterscotch candy, their hands shaking in their pockets. 

When they get back into the warmth of the flat, they thaw out their extremities and place the wine on the counter. They begin to decorate the cupcakes, slathering the tops in red icing and drawing little French flags on top, adding lots of sprinkles.

Harry turns on his music again as they work diligently, and Louis recognizes the [opening](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXPh8RzBNhY) guitar. He turns and points at Harry accusingly, a smile on his face.

“This is your favorite band!” Harry looks surprised at the exclamation. 

“Yeah! I can’t believe you remembered,” Harry grins and looks back down at the cupcake he’s decorating, trying to hide the slight blush that highlights his cheeks.

“Of course I remembered. I even looked them up and listened to them a lot. I really liked this song.” Harry’s dimple is on full display as he squeezes icing out of the bag.

“I know a guy who goes to shows,” Harry begins to sing along, “When he's at home and he blows his nose.” He glances up at Louis, smile still beaming from his face. 

“He don't use tissues or his sleeve,” Louis sings the next line while drawing a little, crooked flag on his cupcake. “He don't use napkins or any of these. He uses,”

Harry joins in. “Magazines. Magazines, magazines,” they sing it together before they both break out into giggles. 

The rest of the song plays on with them singing along, laughing intermittently while steadily working on cupcake decorations. When it’s about to switch over to another song, Harry jumps at his phone to put it on repeat.

They sing along to the same song, doing various dramatic enactments and one particularly impressive rendition of it in opera. An hour later leaves them with the lyrics ingrained in their brains, their throats rough from use, and two dozen cupcakes sitting painstakingly decorated on the counter. 

When Louis goes home that night, he hums along with the tune in his head, thinking of icing and Harry. He thinks of the warmth that’s sitting lightly in his chest and the tingling in his fingertips. He thinks of being happy. 

***

“Vive la révolution!” Louis hears Niall and Zayn’s simultaneous shouts accompanied by the banging of his front door.

“Vive la révolution!” Louis yells back from his kitchen where he’s currently trying to open a package of red streamers. 

Niall and Zayn make their way to him, a large tray of cake pops in their hands, a plastic bag around Zayn’s wrist. The pops are colored a bright red with crooked blue stars plastered on them sparsely. 

“We brought the glitter,” Zayn says, setting the plastic bag on the counter and moving over to help Louis open the streamers. The silver-haired boy opens it easily and smirks at Louis, which is completely unfair. He’d been struggling with that damn plastic forever. 

“Well, come on then you two. We need to decorate really fast before Harry gets here,” Louis says, snatching the streamers out of Zayn’s hands.

Niall looks over at him with his eyebrow raised. “And Liam. Liam is also coming over.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Come on these streamers aren’t going to stream themselves,” Louis brushes past the blonde boy and heads to the living room. 

They begin to throw the roll of streamers around, taping parts to the ceiling and allowing parts to drape over the couch and TV. Zayn’s watching cautiously as Niall stands on a chair to tape more of the decorations to the ceiling. He’s subconsciously holding his hands out in front of him as if to catch his boyfriend if he falls, even though he’s a good ten feet away.

Louis rolls his eyes at him and throws the roll of streamers at the unsuspecting boy’s head. It ends up hitting him directly in the face. Oops. 

Zayn whips his head around to glare at Louis, who just smiles cheekily back at him with his hands behind his back to feign innocence. 

Niall laughs loudly at them as he descends from his chair. Zayn stalks off into the kitchen and Louis looks at Niall confusedly. Is he really that upset? He normally just laughs it off. Niall shrugs back at him. Louis is about to go into the kitchen to see what happened when Zayn comes back into the living room. He’s got a little plastic baggie in his hand and a smirk on his face as he glides over to Louis, who can only watch on in confusion. 

It’s not until Zayn pours an entire bag of red glitter over Louis’ head that he realizes what’s happening. He gasps, inhaling a mouthful of glitter, making him sputter and cough. He can hear Zayn and Niall laughing loudly in the background as he hacks up his lungs, the fuckers. When he feels as if he can breathe again, he sends them his nastiest glare as they both wipe at their eyes. 

“You absolute twat! We were supposed to throw that at the end of _Les Mis_.” Louis crosses his arms and pouts. He doesn’t really care that much but he hopes Zayn at least feels a bit guilty since Louis not only almost died, but will also most likely have red glitter stuck to him for the rest of his life. 

The other boy just smiles and shrugs. “There’s another bag in there. We got extra.” His smile is too smug for Louis’ liking. Fuck this. 

Louis runs past him into the kitchen and rips open the other bag. He can hear Niall call out his name in a warning tone but he can tell it’s mostly playful. He walks back into the living room, glitter packet in hand and smirk on his face. Zayn curses under his breath right as Louis throws a handful of glitter into his face. Zayn lunges for the packet, but Louis turns quickly and tosses a pinch of glitter at Niall as well, who shrieks as if he was being murdered. 

Louis tries to make his escape, but he’s suddenly on the floor, tackled by Zayn. He squirms under the other boy’s weight, trying to protect the packet from his grabbing hands. He’s almost free when Niall, the smarmy bastard, steals the glitter from him and dumps it over the both of them as they lie helplessly on the floor. Most of it gets in Zayn’s hair but a good portion falls directly on Louis’ face. Zayn falls to the side, sprawled on the floor in defeat. 

Zayn’s “Et tu, Niall?” is drowned out by Niall’s laughter and Louis’ sputtering to get the glitter out of his mouth. 

There’s a loud knock at the door, stopping Niall’s laughter as the boy now runs to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Harry, whose face is a mixture of surprise and giddiness as Niall bellows a loud “Vive la révolution!” and wraps him up in a hug. 

Louis and Zayn scramble to stand up, both echoing shouts of their own. Harry, now free of Niall’s grip, walks into the flat and replies with a happy, if not hesitant “Vive la révolution?” His arms are full, carrying multiple containers of the [cupcakes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1zNXTLQ0ZY) they made yesterday.

Louis goes to him, taking a few of the containers. They make their way into the kitchen.

“How are you today, Curly?” He sets the cupcakes he’s holding down on the counter and looks up at the taller boy. 

“I’m good. What happened to you?” Harry pointedly looks down at Louis’ jumper and back up to his face. 

Louis glances down at himself. Glitter is clinging to every part of him. The fabric of his black jeans, the rough texture of his jumper, and even his striped toe-socks are flecked with red. He can only imagine what his hair looks like. “It’s a long story,” Harry nods at that, already guessing what had happened. 

Louis meets Harry’s eyes. They’re a more vibrant green today, tiny flecks of gold littering his irises. He sees the younger boy’s gaze drops to his mouth, and Louis finds himself doing the same. Harry’s lips are chapped and pink. The bow of his upper lip is gentle and his bottom lip full, slightly red from being bitten. Harry starts to shift towards him and Louis’ eyes fly back up to those green ones, which are still trained on his lips. The air in the room feels heavy, charged. Which, what the fuck? No. Louis needs to snap out of this. 

He quickly turns around, back to Harry, and walks over to his cabinets. “Should we put the cupcakes out? I think I’ve got some sort of fancy platter that my nan got me a few years ago. I’ve never used it but there’s a first time for everything.” 

He reaches up on his tip toes and opens the highest one. He sees the platter, white with a floral print along the sides, and stretches his body as far as it will go. He can feel the porcelain under his fingertips when he feels a warmth behind him and sees two large hands reach out to grab it. 

He spins around and slaps Harry’s chest. “Oi, I nearly had that!” 

Harry just smiles back, platter in hand. All of the tension from before seems to dissipate. “Are you sure? You seemed to be struggling there. Didn’t want you to drop it.” 

“Excuse you, I could get that out on my own, no problem,” Louis gives him his best glare. “And I don’t like what you’re implying here.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow, his dimple is showing now. “What? That you’re tiny? I hate to break it to you Lou, but you kind of are.” Louis has never been so offended in his whole, entire life.

He gasps, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Why, I never.” He hears a knock on the door and Niall’s loud greeting. “You know what? I think Liam’s my favorite now. You’ve been demoted, Curly,” Louis raises his nose at Harry and glides past him into the living room, not giving him a chance to reply. He can hear Harry’s laughter as he follows him to greet Liam. 

“Liam, my boy!” Louis shouts. Liam spins around at the sound of his voice, a large smile on his face.

“Louis!” Louis takes a box from what looks like a very posh bakery out of his hands and gives it to Niall, whose conversation with Liam was just interrupted. He doesn’t look like he minds though, just watches Louis happily. 

Louis gives Liam a big hug, making a show of wrapping his arms around the other boy to prove to Harry that Liam is his newfound favorite. Liam hugs him back just as enthusiastically, albeit with a bit of confusion. Louis spins them around, still in an embrace, to look at Harry. The younger boy is standing by the doorway to the kitchen with his arms crossed. He looks all huffy as Louis sticks his tongue out at him. Harry looks down at his hands, twisting his rings with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Louis doesn’t understand. Normally with Louis’ antics Harry always laughs, faking his huffy attitude to play along, but something’s off this time. This time he seems genuinely put out.

He lets go of Liam and gingerly pats his face, leaving a few specks of red glitter on his facial hair. The brown-eyed boy just smiles sunnily at him and doesn’t mention the fact that their hug went on a bit too long to be normal. He’s a good friend.

He looks over at Niall who’s already looking at him, his eyebrows raised questioningly as he glances pointedly back and forth from him to Harry. Louis just shrugs. He honestly doesn’t know what happened. He doesn’t understand why Harry’s mood actually seemed to drop when he knew that Louis was just joking around. 

Niall accepts his shrugged answer and takes the fancy cake box into the kitchen. Zayn and Liam trail behind him, talking loudly about some new superhero movie coming out. Louis walks over to the TV and grabs _Les Mis_. He glances over to see Harry still standing in the doorway watching him, his expression stormy. Louis sighs and finishes putting the movie into the DVD player before he walks over to the taller boy. 

“Apologize for lying and calling me tiny earlier,” Louis raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“I’m sorry for calling you tiny. You are very tall. Taller than most trees, even,” Harry’s not exactly smiling, but he seems to be trying.

Louis lightly slaps his arm and pulls him into a hug. “You know that you’ll always be my favorite, yeah?” He whispers into the taller boy’s neck. He feels Harry nod in response and pulls back to see a small, genuine smile on his face. Better. “Don’t ever tell Niall and Zayn that, though. They’ll have me head.”

Harry lets out a laugh too loud for the quiet space between them. He then proceeds to do the motions of locking his mouth with a key, cheeks and lips bulging slightly with the contained laughter. Louis pokes his exposed dimple. “Would you like to come help me pour the wine?” 

Harry’s face falls into a serine smile, his eyes seem to glow in the bad lighting of Louis’ flat. “Sure, Lou.” His voice comes out quieter than normal, but it seems to fill the room nonetheless. 

Louis stands for a few seconds too long staring into those green eyes that seem to be trying to tell him something. Those eyes are speaking volumes, but it’s as if it’s in a foreign language he studied in sixth form. Something he feels he should know, something that he used to know like the back of his hand but that’s slipped away through the years of disuse.

It’s a code he can’t decipher and it’s frustrating and he’s not sure he even wants to know. He’s not sure if he’d like what he would find there. So, he gives up, grabs Harry’s arm, and drags him to the kitchen where Niall, Zayn and Liam are standing around, already loading their plates different forms of cake. 

They’re on the last of the four bottles of rosé. The lightness in their heads from the alcohol counteracting the heaviness in their stomachs from all the cake. Speaking of, Louis nudges Harry and nods to the TV where Kristen Dunst is sitting in a bathtub, black lipstick on and hair up. 

“Let them eat cake!” They all scream along as she says the infamous words, and then they each proceed to take a bite out of whatever cake is on their plates. Louis thinks he’s eaten enough cake to last him a life time. Or at least enough to tide him over till his next birthday. 

Beside him, Harry groans, patting his belly and setting his plate on the coffee table. Louis hands Harry his plate, getting the taller boy to set it atop of his own. Liam is sitting in the armchair a bit off to the side, sipping his wine and watching the movie with rapt attention. Niall is sitting on the other side of the couch, legs spread so that Zayn can lean between them from where he sits on the floor. 

Zayn had been on the couch, but when he got up to switch the DVD from _Les Mis_ to _Marie Antoinette_ and go to the loo, Harry had gotten up and stolen his spot. In Harry’s defense, Zayn never told him not to steal his seat. Plus, he has a bad back and Louis’s sure sitting on the floor with no proper back rest doesn’t help.

Harry leans against the couch cushion and lays his arm around the back, almost touching Louis’ shoulders. As Louis watches the movie that he’s seen more times than he can count, he feels his eyes droop. He doesn’t really think about it when he moves over and lays his head down on Harry’s chest, snuggling his body up to fit under the other boy’s arm. Harry’s body tenses for a second before relaxing, his arm coming to rest against Louis’ back. His hand plays with the hair at the nape of the older boy’s neck. And maybe it’s the alcohol or too much sugar or just the reassuring warmth that comes from being so close to somebody, but Louis feels like he could stay like this forever. Maybe it’s because it’s Harry that he’s curled up to. He tries not to think about it, but his brain can’t seem to stop.

Shit. It’s because it’s Harry.

Harry. This silly boy with green eyes and a bright smile. The boy whose limbs seem a bit too long for his body and who is always smacking on cinnamon gum in a way that Louis would normally think is annoying but can’t help but find completely endearing. It’s Harry who always tells dumb jokes to make him laugh and gets him socks for his birthday because he knows that Louis needed them but was far too stubborn to buy them.

Harry who can bake and who makes walking around in frigid weather seem fun. Harry who makes Louis feel like his heart is floating and his lungs are empty. He’s someone who makes him feel so disoriented but also like he’s at home. He’s someone who fell so easily into Louis’ life and has always felt like he truly belongs there in a way that only Niall and Zayn have before.

Louis’ mind is white noise. He can’t hear the movie and he can’t hear the beat of Harry’s heart where his ear his pressed against his chest because shit. He likes Harry. He well and truly likes him, which is complete shit because this is exactly what he’s been avoiding since James.

But he’s never had a choice, not with Harry. Since the first day Harry sat with him in the bookstore, he knew. He always knew Harry was different. He was never just another lad, he was always Harry. 

Louis feels cold even while laying against the younger boy. His heart is racing but it feels like his blood has stopped pumping altogether. He knows his body’s gone tense but Harry hasn’t said anything. Maybe he hasn’t even noticed. 

Louis needs to untangle himself. He can’t sort this out while wrapped in the arms of the person he wants but knows he shouldn’t have. He needs to escape, clear his mind. He can get past this, he can block it out. He just can’t be laying all over Harry, breathing in his smell, and nuzzling into the hand that’s running through his hair while he does it. 

He slowly sits up, feeling light headed. He’s not sure now if it’s from the wine. Harry looks at him with concern. Louis ignores it. He’s been ignoring so much these past two months. He wishes he was better at it. 

“I think I’m actually going to crash. I’m sorry. You guys can finish the movie, take home as much cake as you want.” All of the boys are looking at him worriedly now. He just needs to escape. 

“You alright, Lou?” Zayn asks from the floor. His and Niall’s faces are the worst. Louis can’t look them in the eye. They know him too well. They know he’d never skip the end of Revolution Night, that he’d never skip any part of it. 

“I’m fine. Just feeling a bit queasy. Best to just head off to bed.” Louis tries his best to give them a reassuring smile but he knows it doesn’t translate. 

“You sure you’re alright? I can go with you. Give you some company?” Harry looks so worried and Louis feels like absolute shit. He wants to tell him he’s fine and to sit back down on the couch, pretend he isn’t falling in love. Pretend he isn’t falling apart. He can’t. 

“It’s okay. Really. ‘M just going to get some rest.” Louis begins to walk towards his room, turning back to say, “Night boys.” He’s met with a chorus of goodnights, each with varying degrees of concern laced into the syllables. 

When he gets to his room, he locks the door. He’s sure they wouldn’t try to come in but just in case. He curls up under the covers, not bothering to change out of his rough, glitter-covered clothes. He doesn’t know how long he lays there, staring into the darkness, trying to keep his mind empty. Eventually, he hears the boys moving around. He listens to the sound of plates banging around in the kitchen and the door closing. All warmth and comfort has left, his hazy mind bouncing rapidly from emptiness to blind panic.

He’s falling for his best friend. But Louis doesn’t do love. He can’t date someone he cares about because that hurts worse when things fall apart. That gives him something to lose, and he’s not sure he has much left give up.

Hours, decades, entire lifetimes seem to pass before he finally drifts off. He dreams of running and not being able to stop.

***

Harry goes back to uni two days later. Louis manages to avoid the lads the day after by claiming a horrible hangover, which isn’t a complete lie. The [second](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgLm2gInV4A) day passes with only brief contact with Zayn after Louis gets off his morning shift. He doesn’t go by to see Harry at the coffee shop and replies to Harry’s text asking if he’s okay with a thumbs up, ignoring all messages that come after.

He feels like shit being away from him, but he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to love Harry. Love is unreliable and it fucks people over. Louis can’t waste what he has with Harry on something as feeble as love. Love doesn’t last, at least not for Louis. 

He has to get over this before he can go back to how they were before. He can’t trust his feelings around him right now. 

For the first few days after Harry’s classes start it’s easy to avoid him. Harry has classes in the mornings and afternoons and the days Louis has to work are early shifts, so Harry doesn’t stop by the shop. Louis avoids Bump N’ Grind, avoids his text messages. It’s all working out. It’s all okay, and the days pass by with his limbs feeling too heavy to move, his eyes red and itchy. It’s all just fine.

Except, he has to work closing shift tomorrow. He knows that Harry knows his schedule and that he’ll probably drop in because that’s what they always did. Always stopping by, keeping each other company. Always together.

Things seem colder now. He tells himself it’s for the best, but that doesn’t help ease the self-hatred that’s boiling under his skin. He knows he needs to talk to Harry, but he can’t. Not yet. 

He sends a text to Niall asking to switch shifts with him. Niall agrees and doesn’t ask questions. He’s been giving Louis his space these past few days, for which Louis is eternally grateful. 

Louis takes the long way to work that morning, as he has been doing for the past couple of days. He knows Harry’s not working but he doesn’t want to run into Liam either. He legs move mechanically. He feels cold in the very marrow of his bones. He’s not sure if it’s from the chill outside. 

The scent of lavender doesn’t smell like home. It smells too chemical, too fake. It doesn’t smell like cinnamon or raspberries or vanilla. Is Louis supposed to feel this shitty? They haven’t broken up. They haven’t even dated. He’s just distancing himself a bit. Things will go back to the way they were before, except he’ll have to guard himself more, but he’s used to that. 

So why does it feel so hard? Why does he feel like his skin is too tight, like his chest his too hollow? He tries not to think about it as he shifts on the hard, wooden chair. 

Niall doesn’t say anything when he comes in, just gives him a long hug and a concerned stare. Louis gives him a peck on the cheek and an apologetic smile before he leaves. 

The next morning Louis is finishing off a box of cereal, ignoring the red streamers that still decorate his flat, and trying to think of what to do. Yesterday, he got Zayn to switch shifts with him. Zayn, like Niall, has been quiet. They know. They’ve always known. But today is different. Today is Thursday, which means the lads usually come over for dinner. He can’t, though. He can’t do it, so he texts Niall, asks him to cancel it, to tell the other boys not to come because he’s sick. 

Niall does, only asks to make sure Louis isn’t actually sick. No, he’s not. He’s just ripping himself apart, bit by bit and would rather be alone while he does it, thanks. 

It’s late that night when Louis hears a knock on the door. It’s not Niall or Zayn because they have key, so he doesn’t answer it. He has a feeling he knows who it is, and the thought makes his stomach churn. Eventually the knocking stops.

After an hour, he shuffles quietly to the door, cracking it open. No one is there, but there’s a red Tupperware container on the floor, a sticky note on top. He lifts it up. 

_Heard you were sick :( get better soon, Lou.  
-Harry _

It’s chicken soup. Harry made him chicken soup because he thinks he’s sick.

Louis walks to the kitchen and contemplates pouring it down the sink, but the thought of wasting something Harry made makes him feel even worse. He shoves it in the fridge instead. He feels nauseous and uneven. He just wants to run to Harry’s flat and apologize. He wants to make this right and to be with Harry happily, to not worry about reality. But, that’s not how things work with Louis. 

People don’t love Louis for long. They think he’s alright for a while, but eventually they realize he’s just not enough. He’s never enough.

He wasn’t enough for his biological dad. He wasn’t enough to get him to stay with his mum, with him.

He wasn’t enough for his step-dad, Mark. The first time he took his A-levels, he failed, and he would hear Mark and his mum arguing about it. Mark didn’t think Louis would ever be good enough for anything, no future in store. By the time he retook them and got accepted into uni, the divorce papers were already filed. He tried so, so hard, but he wasn’t enough for Mark to stick around either.

He wasn’t enough for the first person he ever fell in love with. James made that clear. He was never anything for James, was never worth enough to matter. He single-handedly reassured every dark thought Louis had picking at his mind since Mark left. He’s not enough to mean something to someone.

Louis has seen the way Harry stares, the way he acts. He knows Harry feels something for him, but he also knows that Harry will realize that he isn’t enough. He’ll realize that what he expected Louis to be isn’t who Louis can be and he’ll leave.

Louis doesn’t think he could take it. He couldn’t have Harry deem him unworthy too, so he stays in his flat. He isn’t sick, but he takes two, three spoons of cough syrup anyway and curls up on his bed. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep with the help of the medicine. The only problem is that he has to wake up. 

Another week passes. Nothing’s changed, but Niall and Zayn are beginning to get restless. They’ve been texting more often, which he dutifully ignores. Harry’s texts stopped a while ago. Louis isn’t sure how he feels about it. 

He’s got another night shift today, but he feels too bad asking to switch shifts again. Plus, Zayn’s working today, and while he would switch with him, no hesitation, he’s also likely to start asking questions. Louis isn’t sure he would know how to answer any. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know anything anymore, just this primal sense of twisted self-preservation. He’s just trying to save himself. He’s not sure it’s working.

He’s emptying his bowl out in the sink when he hears the door open, making his heart rate speed up. He knows it’s Niall since he’s the only one that comes in without texting first, but the part of his mind that he’s been trying to numb the past two weeks is hoping that it’s Harry. 

Niall walks straight into the kitchen, makes eye contact with him, and nods towards the living room. Louis follows him wordlessly to the couch where they sit down. They curl up together under the old afghan like it’s second nature. He stares at Louis, his eyes searching. Louis can’t meet those crystalized blue eyes that he’s come to associate with home. They feel too cutting now, filled with pity and questions.

He picks at a hangnail. His nails are bitten to stumps, crusts of blood along the edges.

“He came by yesterday. He’s been coming by almost every day.” Louis manages to look up at that. Niall’s concerned eyes hold no judgement and Louis lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

Niall doesn’t say any more, but Louis has to know. “How is he?” 

“Sad. Disappointed when he sees you aren’t there. He’s worried he’s done something wrong.” 

“He hasn’t.” They’re silent for bit, the only sound is the quiet rush of their breathing.

“Is this about James, then?” Niall breaks the silence. He already knows the answer. 

Louis looks back down at his fingers. “I really like him Niall, but I can’t. You know I can’t. I’m…” Louis swallows. His throat feels too dry, too small for words. “I’m so scared, Niall. I like him so much.” The last part comes out quieter than he meant, almost a whisper. 

He feels Niall’s arms come to wrap around him and he buries his face in his best friend’s jumper. They both ignore the dampness on his cheeks that’s soaking into the fabric. 

“I know. It’s okay, I know,” he unravels his arms from around Louis, grabs his shoulders to look him in the eye. “But you and I both know that he’s not James.”

“But…” Louis begins to protest.

Niall cuts him off, his voice sterner, “He’s not, Louis.” He shakes his head and lets go of Louis’ shoulders. Niall shuffles further into the warmth of the blankets, his tone growing softer. “You have to have noticed the way he looks at you. The way he laughs around you. The way he always wants to be near you. I mean, honestly, the fucker’s even given me the side eye for hugging ‘ya for too long,” Niall chuckles the last part. Louis can feel himself begin to smile for the first time since Revolution Night. It’s small, barely there, but it’s something. 

“He really likes you, Lou. You know it. We all know it.” 

Louis sighs, tipping his head back against the cushion. “I know, but I’m still…” He sighs again, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as possible. White lights dance behind his eyelids. “I believed James when he said he loved me. We all did,” he scoffs at himself. Has he always been this pathetic? 

“The fact is, I’m just never going to be good enough. And that’s okay, as long as I don’t get my hopes up. If I get my hopes up and it falls apart, I’ll break again. And you know as well as I do how hard it is to pick up the pieces,” he keeps his eyes closed, unable to look the other boy in the eye. The truth is that he never was able to get the pieces to fit together like they should. He’s spent so many years with ridges and cracks and sharp edges. 

He’s spent years feeling less than what he used to be. He wishes he hadn’t been so affected, that it wasn’t as big of deal as it was. So many people’s parents get divorces. So many people have bad relationships.

He wishes he had just cried and gotten over it, hadn’t let it soak into his core and solidify there, the weight of not being good enough. The burden of being a throw-away person. He doesn’t say that, though. The silence that hangs in the air makes him think that maybe Niall already knows.

“That’s a part of the whole thing isn’t it? Being afraid. The risk. I know you’ve been through some shit, and I wish you’d never had to go through what you have, that you’d never had to feel the way you have for so long.” Niall takes a shaky breath. He doesn’t get upset often, always tries to be positive, to keep things light, but seeing his best friend constantly hating and belittling himself over the years has cut like a knife. He had thought it was getting better, that he was getting happier. Maybe Louis has just gotten better at hiding it.

He tries to keep going, acting cool and calm. That’s what Louis needs; he needs his happy, collected best friend. “When I fell for Zayn it was fuckin’ terrifying. I’d never had any bad experiences with other relationships or anything, but when I realized how I felt about Z, I nearly shat a brick. Love’s scary. Opening up your heart for someone else is scary. But what if I had chickened out with Zayn, if I had pushed him out and never given him a chance? I can’t even imagine it. I don’t know who I’d be without him.” 

Louis looks over at the other boy. Niall and Zayn never really talk about their relationship much. It just started happening one day and seemed to work, and neither Niall nor Zayn are particularly sappy, at least not in front of others. It just was never really a topic of conversation. 

Niall just stares back, his eyes gentle. “You’re worthy of love, Lou. You can’t keep running from it. No matter the outcome, it would be worse if you never tried. Look at what you’re doing to yourself already. It can’t be worse than this.” A sad smile plays on his lips. “Plus, you know if he ever fucks you over, I will personally break his knee caps. And there’s no tellin’ what Zayn would do.” 

Louis can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him at that, surprising Niall into his own fit of laughter.

After the James incident, he had to hold Niall and Zayn back from going to James’ flat, but Zayn had ended up sneaking over there anyway under the guise of getting Louis ice cream and keyed the asshole’s car. He can’t seem to stop laughing at the memory of Zayn’s smug smile when he got back and the way Niall had slapped him and then kissed him immediately after. He’s sure his laugh sounds a bit hysterical. He feels a bit hysterical.

Eventually the laughter dies into quiet breathing. Louis looks at his best friend, who’s grinning back at him sunnily, happy to just hear Louis laughing again. “Love you, Nialler.” 

“Love you too, ya big idiot.” Louis punches weakly at his shoulder, which Niall just laughs off. “Now, I’ll cover your shift tonight. Harry’s off work, isn’t he?” Louis nods in confirmation, albeit a bit hesitantly. “Go talk to him. Sort this shit out. We have lads’ dinner tomorrow night and it would be unbearably awkward if you two weren’t on good terms by then because we are absolutely not cancelling again.” Niall shucks the covers off and stands up, stretching. 

Louis stands up as well. His bare feet feel cold outside the warmth of the blanket. “I’ll talk to him,” he says it more to himself than Niall.

“Good man.” Niall gives him a quick but firm hug before making his way to the door. “I’ve got to grab Zayn something to eat for when he gets off. You know how useless he is at cooking. Text me how it goes, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he heads out the door. 

Louis sighs, standing alone in his living room. The room feels too big, the air too stuffy. He runs a hand through his hair, finding it stringy with grease, so he heads to the bathroom and strips down, turning on the hot water. After a minute or two, the water heats to an almost painful temperature, and he gets in. The water pressure is shit, coming out in uneven spurts, but it’s hot and the steam fills his nostrils, coats his throat. Louis likes to imagine that it’s filling his head as his thoughts race around.

He needs to talk to Harry. He’s going to talk to Harry. He at least owes him an apology for acting like a total knobhead these past two weeks. Which, God, Niall said Harry looked sad at the bookshop. The thought of having hurt Harry through all of this makes his bones ache. 

He doesn’t know if Harry actually wants him, but he knows what he feels. He knows that he’s fallen fast and that it’s terrifying. He also knows that there is nothing that he wants more than to see that curly hair and breathe in the smell of cinnamon.

He’s petrified of what’s to come, but he’s already tried to resist it and so far it’s only broken him down day by day, bit by bit. There’s not much more left to break. He’s tired of fighting himself.

He washes off the soap and hops out of the shower. Louis quickly gets dressed and somewhat fixes his hair, trying his best to seem like he hasn’t been fermenting in fear and self-loathing for the past week. He tries to text Harry to tell him he’s coming over, but can’t think of what to say so he just sends him a purple heart and a dragon emoji. He’s not sure what that conveys, what it’s supposed to convey, but it is the first thing he’s texted him since the day after Revolution Night, which has to mean something.

His heart is beating abnormally fast and his legs feel jittery as he leaves his flat, trying to escape before he chickens out. Or regains his senses. Either one. 

***

By the time he gets to Harry’s building his toes and fingers are [numb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=licyt5FQ0cU). He forgot to put on socks. He presses the button for Harry’s flat and hears it buzz, but there isn’t an answer. Shit. He hadn’t really thought about Harry not being there. He can wait until he gets here, or at least until someone comes in or out and then he can go inside the building and wait there. It may be a bit creepy, sure. And he may get frostbite in his extremities, yeah, but he’ll wait. Harry waited for him for two weeks, consistently searching him out. He owes it to Harry to wait for at least a decade, century at most. 

He rings the buzzer again, just in case. He doesn’t really expect anything, so when he hears static and a deep “Hello?” he jumps. His heart is racing and he can’t seem to regulate his breathing. 

“May I come up? Please?” He cringes at the way his voice shakes. 

He doesn’t expect how quickly he hears the doors buzz, allowing him entrance. The elevator creaks as it goes up. The florescent lights dull and buzzing. He tries to gain his composure, thinks it wouldn’t be so bad if the elevator broke, trapping him somewhere between floors. He tries to think of what to say, but he hasn’t figured it out by the time the heavy metallic doors stutter open. He walks down the sullen hallway to Harry’s flat at a loss for words.

He reaches up and barely is able to knock before the door is flung open. 

“Lou,” Harry’s staring at him wide-eyed. His hair is down, tendrils falling in his face. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt, but he looks warmer than Louis’ felt in weeks. 

“Hello, Curly,” Harry seems to break at that, coming and wrapping Louis in a hug. He squeezes a little too tight, but it’s just what Louis needs. To feel like he’s not coming apart at the seams. 

“Louis, I’ve missed you so much.” Harry pulls back, his green eyes catching onto Louis’. “Are you feeling better? Were you terribly sick?” He keeps talking, not allowing an answer. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know if I made you uncomfortable that night or if I crossed some sort of boundary, but I am so sorry.” It all comes out so fast, like he’s been holding it in for a long time.

“No, Harry. You really, really don’t need to apologize for anything. It’s me who needs to apologize. But…” Louis glances around. “Can I maybe come inside? Don’t really fancy having conversations in the hallway.” Not again.

“Yeah, yes. Sorry. Come in.” Louis walks into the flat he’s only been in once before. His eyes trace along the designs of the wallpaper nervously.

He sighs, turning back to face Harry. He can do this. “Harry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for these past weeks. I’m sorry for ignoring you and shutting you out. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so incredibly sorry if my actions hurt you in any way.” 

Harry looks down at his feet and back up again. His hands are behind his back, but Louis knows that he’s fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “It’s okay, Lou. Just…what happened?” 

“I’m,” Louis sighs, running his hand through his hair. He can’t meet Harry’s eyes so he stares at grain of the wooden door behind his head. “Honestly? I’m an idiot. I’m scared and I’m broken and I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time,” he says it all in one breath. He finally looks at Harry, his face just looks more confused than before. “And I think I’m falling in love with you.” 

Harry’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open on a quiet gasp. He doesn’t say anything so Louis continues, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I don’t know when it started, probably around New Years. Maybe before then. I just know that I really like you, Harry. I like the way you always listen to me rant about history and I like the way you ramble on about your accounting courses when you get tired. I like the way you always smell like that cinnamon gum and how much you love fruit. I like when you cuddle with me and how you always are so, so kind to me. I just really fucking like you and that terrifies me because I’ve not had such an amazing experience with liking people in the past. And that’s why I’ve been a dick recently, which isn’t good excuse, but I just…I just hope you’ll forgive me.”

The entire time he’s talking, Harry’s just stood there, mouth still hanging open. Louis can see the white of the gum he’s chewing sitting on his tongue. But suddenly, that mouth is on his. He can taste cinnamon as he feels his hands come up to entangle with Harry’s curls. Harry has one hand pressed at the small of his back and one slotted between his shoulder blades, holding Louis impossibly close. 

Louis eventually pulls away, Harry’s lips chasing his. “So, does that mean you forgive me?” He’s breathless, his chest feels too full of something that’s not oxygen. 

Harry laughs. He seems breathless too. He rests his forehead against Louis’, their eyes closing, reveling in the closeness. “I like you too, Lou. I actually think I fell for you that first time I went to the bookstore. Maybe even when you came into the shop that first day, ordering an iced drink while it was practically sleeting outside.” Harry pulls back enough to look Louis in the eye. “I like that you’re so passionate about history and I love your strange obsession with Louis the XIV.”—“Oi, it’s not strange. He was fantastic.”—“I like that you drink iced drinks unabashedly in the cold and that you and your friends have a bunch of important yearly rituals. And I like how your toes are still cold even when you wear socks. I like that you listen to all of my stories and don’t zone out like everyone else.”

Harry brushes a piece of Louis’ hair away from his face. “I like the way you feel when I hold you and how you always smell of lavender. I like you way more than I probably should, and I am so sorry that you have ever been through anything in your life that wasn’t absolutely wonderful. These past weeks haven’t been fun, no, but it hasn’t made me like you any less. I could never be anything but completely infatuated with you because…well, you’re Louis.” 

Louis feels like he could float away, lose himself somewhere in the atmosphere. He feels like he’s going to explode and his cheeks hurt with the force of his smile. He feels warm in the pit of his stomach and in the tips of his toes. “God, Harry. You’re so fucking cheesy.” 

Harry smiles into it as he kisses him. 

***

The next Thursday, Harry is sitting on the couch next to Louis doing his accounting homework, pencil in one hand and calculator in the other. Louis has his cold feet tucked under the taller boy’s thigh as he flips through a book about the Mongols. This past week they’ve spent hours talking, Louis practically pouring his soul out in a way he’s only ever glimpsed at with Niall. He was hesitant at first but--it’s Harry. He’s never felt more at home than he has with Harry. 

He cried a bit and apologized a lot. Harry also had a few tears rolling down his face and a flood reassurances rolling off his tongue. And normally he wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t believe his mum or Niall or Zayn. He didn’t believe himself when he tried time after time to convince himself that someone out there would love him for who he is, but he believed Harry.

He believed Harry as he held him, rocking him softly in his dim-lit bedroom. He believed him when he pressed kisses to his cheeks and forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, the chill of his metal rings causing the smaller boy to break out in goosebumps.

Louis still feels sadness sitting on his inside his chest, a thin layer covering his skeleton, coating his bones as it has for so long, but lately it’s been less suffocating. When Harry’s around he barely feels its weight at all.

And sometimes at night while the taller boy sleeps, their bodies wrapped together, warmth and moonlight filling the room, Louis will feel doubt scratching against his skull, tingling under his skin. He’ll start to wonder if all of it will fade away and how long it’ll take them to break. But then he looks over at the sleeping boy next to him, nuzzles his nose into his chest, and it all fades away with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. 

It’s okay. Things are okay and he hasn’t felt this warm in a long time.

He [startles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXL-SSnCoHo) when he hears the loud banging of a pot and some distant shouting. He can feel himself smile. Niall, Liam, and Zayn are in the kitchen cleaning up the plates from dinner, so there’s no telling what they’re getting up to.

The day after what Louis likes to call The Confession, they told the boys that everything had been sorted during dinner. Liam had been surprised by the news, having not realized anything out of the ordinary had been happening, but he cheered just as loudly as Niall and Zayn. And they all toasted to Harry and Louis figuring out their shit, sipping on some whiskey the boys had brought over with them.

The three lads come stumbling into the living room, talking loudly.

“Harry when are we going to meet your friend? What’s his name? Edward?” Liam asks, settling into the armchair that he’s now begun to claim as his own.

“Ed? I don’t know. Lou met him a few days ago.” Harry answers, not looking up from his work. 

Niall and Zayn both look at Louis with offended expressions from where they’re sitting on the floor. Zayn’s back is against the couch, Niall’s back against Zayn’s chest.

“And when were you going to tell us this, hm?” Zayn tuts at him. 

“It just hadn’t come up,” Louis shrugs at the silver-haired boy. “He’s chill, though. Do you think he’d want to join us all for dinner next week, Curls?” He adds, looking over at Harry who looks up, face beaming.

“Yeah! I think he’d love that.” They smile at each other for a while, lost in the little worlds they’ve found in each other’s eyes. 

Niall clears his throat loudly. “Harry, put that homework away. It’s movie time,” he calls over to the curly-headed boy, far too loudly for the distance between them. 

“Oi, let him finish. The movie can wait,” Louis says back, sending Niall a playful glare. Niall winks back in reply. 

“It’s okay. I’ve just finished the last one,” Harry says, handing his things to Niall to place on the coffee table.

He then moves over towards Louis, stretching out his arm as invitation for the smaller boy to settle underneath it. Louis shifts around, resting his head against Harry’s chest. He hears his heart beat steadily, mingling with the sound of the boys arguing about which movie to watch, and feels the vibrations against his face as Harry voices his own opinion. He watches them flick through the categories on Netflix rapidly.

“Do you care, Lou?” Harry asks, hand running through Louis’ hair. 

“No. I’m happy with whatever.” He slides one hand underneath Harry’s jumper and glides his fingers lazily across the warm skin of his stomach. 

Harry hugs Louis impossibly closer and moves his hand lower, scratching light patterns over the older boy’s back. Louis closes his eyes. His breaths have synced up with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest. 

He feels light and happy and warm. He feels loved.

**Author's Note:**

> just because I very much think about things in songs,  
> Louis' songs for this fic are [I Walk The Line- Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ReAcs-Hq1DI), [Snow- SOAK](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vi_4qBDz86w), and [I'm So Afraid- Fleetwood Mac](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6OrtLxsqSic) the live version only though, the studio one isn't as good
> 
> Harry's are [Halo- Lewis Watson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVhpnl1DecI) (sappy af I know) and [Vein of Stars- The Flaming Lips](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9cBm1EzQ00)
> 
> THANKS for reading, come talk to me about anything on [tumblr](https://www.louisbigfatbutt.tumblr.com)


End file.
